As the lightning falls
by YF-21
Summary: Overwhelmed by sorrow and despair, Sophitia receives an offer she can´t refuse. Please read and review. [Chapter 8 posted]
1. Mercy

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc. of Soul Calibur belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to them.

As the lightning falls By YF-21

"" denotes speech

_denotes emphasis/thoughts/flashback_

Chapter 1

The thunderclap roared and the lightning fell to the ground. Unholy power darkened the skies. Screams and flames engulfed the once peaceful village. The slaughter. The massacre. The stench of the bodies filled the air, the land despoiled beneath the warm carcasses. Those villagers fortunate enough to escape the carnage ran for the mountains to never return, for the harbinger of death was in town.

There was no mercy. Men, Women, Children. It made no differences between them. They were all the same for the infernal weapon, they would all calm its insatiable hunger. The massive Soul Edge moved around the air, hacking and maiming - its wielder instantaneously executing anyone in their way or sight. As the fire spreaded from house to house, the screams of the helpless villagers formed a true symphony of pain. Soul Edge left nothing in its wake but destruction, death and despair.

The man´s body slammed the brick wall, his whole being writhing in pain. Although the sheer force of the impact threw him away, Rothion had miraculously managed to deflect the attack with his shield – the fact that his head was still attached to the rest of his body the proof of it.

**"Aren´t you going to attack?"  
**

Still on the floor, the young man rolled over to dodge the next strike, meant to cut him in half.

**"She would want you to live, Rothion."**

The blacksmith stood up again, bringing his battered hoplon to block against the next wave of attacks. The constant defense took its toll on the man, as it became harder and harder to keep up with the blade´s relentless assault. Finally one of the attacks got through, making a gash on his right arm. Rothion couldn´t help wincing as blood profusely flowed from the wound.

**"Do something about it."**

But the man knew. There was no way he could fight. There was no way he would fight _her_.

Where once emerald eyes shined, crimson eyes now burnt, as red as the blood. The golden hair turned into a decayed gray one. The sickly pale skin seemed to glow before the fires around them. Sophitia Alexandra became a shadow of her former self; the very weapon she had sought to destroy was now in her hands – her mind and body corrupted by its twisted whims.

Sophitia swinged the massive sword against the man and the weapons clashed and locked; both fighters pushed forward, their faces only inches away from each others.

"Sophitia, are you there!" Rothion pleaded. "You have to listen to me, please!"

Her face betrayed no emotion. The expresionless pools of her eyes returned him a blank stare. Rothion couldn´t believe that this was the same girl he used to know - what had happened to her!

"**Just because her eyes are open doesn´t mean she´s awake."**

The eye above the hilt of the infernal artifact suddenly opened, the yellow, horrid orb glaring at him. Shocked by the sickening glance, Rothion lost all concentration and soon found himself on the dusty floor.

Sophitia effortlessly rose the demonic blade above her head. Not giving the blacksmith a moment of respite, the maiden brought the sword down in a vertical arc, forcefully digging the tip next to the fallen man. Rothion paled - she could have killed him there.

"**I grow tired of this nonsense. If you don´t start fighting, mortal,"** The dark voice in his mind warned.** "I might stop playing."**

The man felt his strength, his resolve fading in the eye of the wicked blade. It was a terrifying sight. So close to it, he managed to see his own reflection in the pulsing orb and despaired. As the infernal artifact tore through armor and flesh alike, its glare ripped through the minds of its would-be victims, filling their hearts with dread and panic. Those who found themselves trapped in the sorcerous stare could only quiver in fear before the blade proceded to collect their souls. Unable to take his eyes off it, the orb held Rothion in place, devouring him alive.

It blinked.** "What does she see in you, anyways?"**

_S-Sophie..._

An image of her flashed before his eyes. Images of times past and chances lost. Trembling, he looked up to her and what he saw pained him. It couldn´t be – this wasn´t the girl he used to know. The Sophitia he knew was full of life. This shade standing besides him wasn´t her.

"**It _is_ her." **The voice reassured him. **"Aren´t you glad to see that she´s finally home?"**

The whisper brought him back to reality. With his heart beating in his ears, Rothion got to his feet as quickly as he could and kept his distance from both girl and sword, eyes averting the dreaded visage. "You!" He snapped. "What have you done to her!"

Sophitia spared him no glance as she lifted the massive blade from the dirt.

"Answer me, damn you!"

The maiden returned him a vacant stare. There was no emotion in her lifeless eyes. No doubt, nor remorse. She parted her lips a bit, but closed them again.

"**She still longs for you, Rothion."** It whispered.** "Don´t keep her waiting."**

She now faced him fully, her hands on the wretched thing. Rothion´s eyes caught the bizarre clamp-like appendixes emerging from the blade´s hilt, holding her right hand still. He understood then. Sophitia wasn´t holding the sword, but the demonic weapon was attached to her instead.

The girl took a fighting stance. Preparing himself for the inevitable, the blacksmith rose his shield in anticipation.

He frowned. "Why."

Mockingly, the voice answered him. **"Why not?"**

Biting anger set into the blacksmith´s chest. All this was a game for the wicked sword. "By Hephaestus, monster, I swear tha-"

"**A pawn is a pawn." **It cut in. **"What difference does it make who it serves?"**

Rothion gritted his teeth. It was referring to her. "She is not a pawn."

"**She is what she is. An insignificant martyr - bred to suffer and born to die." **It said despectively. **"Just like the rest of you."**

Rothion shot the blade a glare that would have reduced most men to ashes, if that would have been the case. Angered, he realized that the pulsing eye seemed to no longer have any power over him. "She´s a chosen one," He rose his voice. "summoned by the Gods-"

The dark tone came before his.** "He sent her to die. She knows so."**

"...to destroy you!"

**"Indeed,"** It stated as a matter-of-factly. **"but it happens that I can´t be killed."** Rothion´s blood froze. For a second, he could have sworn that he had heard the voice chuckle. **"Perhaps Hephaestus thought that where all those men miserably failed, a helpless girl would obviously make a difference."**

"**Tell me mortal," **Rothion glared at it. There it was again. The chuckle turning into heartened laughter. **"what kind of god would send the daughter of a baker to such task, if not for his own amusement?"**

He ignored its remarks. "It´s not my place to question his decisions."

"**No, but you do anyways." **The voice reverted to an almost condecendent tone. **"It is a pity that the priests didn´t let you go in her place, Rothion. You might have fared better than her."**

At this, the man´s eyes narrowed._ How-_

The yellow orb twitched.** "I see more than others, because I know where to look." **

_I... _Taken by surprise, the blacksmith took a step back, remorseful thoughts gnawing at his mind. In disbelief, he switched stares between the blade´s imponent gaze and the maiden´s dispassionate one."I wanted to go. I offered myself to go." He looked hard at her. "You know this."

**"Why does that matter now?"** The voice cut in again. **"Why feel guilty at all? You only did what you were told to - and so did she."**

"..."

Hazel eyes trailed to the floor in shame. Rothion had been told to forge her weapons, and to wait for her return. For how absurd the whole idea was to him, he was no one to interfere between the comunion between a god and a mortal. And like that, he just let her go to find whatever fate awaited her.

_That _fate. "I don´t believe this!" Indignated, the blacksmith called out at the girl standing in front of him. "Fight it! Don´t let it win!"

Sophitia returned him the same vacant stare as before.

"You have to fight it, Sophie!"

There was a lengthy silence and none of the warriors made a move or sound. They just held their ground, contemplating each other. The wind started to blow and the dark stormclouds threatened to break in any moment. Anxiety filled the thoughts of the man, as he waited for any signal from Sophitia – a response, anything.

Finally, the girl parted her lips. "I..." Life returned to her dead eyes, but an eerie light seemed to irradiate from them. Sophitia stuck the infernal artifact in the floor and then took a step forward, her tiny frame dwarfing before the massive blade at her side. "I don´t want to fight anymore."

_Sophie..._

Her red eyes bored into his. "I´m not a fighter. Yet he-" She seemed to struggle with the words. "Why did he?-"

The sound of her voice; the soft tone, yet dull and tired. He noticed that this was the first time he heard her voice in two years – and cringed when realized that in his mind he remembered another all along. Rothion closed his eyes. In pain, the beast in his chest stirred and he wished nothing more than to comfort her, like long ago; yet when he opened his mouth, all he managed to say was...

The truth. "I don´t know."

He didn´t know why she had been chosen in the first place. He didn´t know why she, of all possible people, had been entrusted with such endeavor. "But I know something," Rothion opened his eyes again, and continued. "You _have_ to fight it."

"I can´t." Crimsom eyes widened slightly. "You don´t know..."

He shot her a stern gaze. "Fight it."

"I..." The girl broke the stare and the features on her face softened. "I wanted to go home. I just wanted to see you all again." Sophitia directed her eyes towards the monster attached to her arm. "I have brought this upon yourselves. I couldn´t protect you from it."

"You still can." His heart pounded his chest, and the blacksmith pleaded to her. "Your parents, Cassandra, Lucius. They are all waiting for you. Let go of it and return to us."

A sad smile. "They aren´t."

"..."

"I´d die for them, so it made sure they died for me." The girl looked at the man and begged. "Don´t die for me, Rothion."

_T-they are dead?_ At first, brown eyes stared in disbelief but then hardened. Rothion thought he had seen a flicker in her face, but it turned out to be something else.

"Please, Rothion." Her eyebrows quirked. "If you kill me, it _might_ let you go."

"Don´t." Though Rothion had intended the words as a whisper, they came out from his mouth as a growl.

"It wants to get rid of me." She explained. "It can´t destroy me by its own means, so its looking for someone to do it. Anyone. _You._"

"Stop it."

Sophitia walked towards the blacksmith, dragging the monster behind her. Crimsom orbs looked him in the face and whispered, "I have bled for you. Won´t you save me?" Hundreds of words and thoughts were fighting to get out, but Rothion found that he couldn´t speak. This was not the girl he knew. Those weren´t her eyes, nor those her words.

"I´d do anything for you," He told her. "but you are not her."

The girl lowered her head, long strands of hair covering her face. Like a puppet waiting to be pulled of its strings, Sophitia merely stood there, devoid of life again. Disheartened by the display, Rothion looked away, but the insidious voice of Soul Edge boomed in his mind. **"I do not intend to possess this vessel for long."** It told him. **"Thrust your sword into her chest and show her your mercy, for I´ll have none."**

The blacksmith looked at the girl in front of him. Where dozens of veterans had failed, a green girl had survived, and that was a feat big enough. And if she had survived her divine quest once, Rothion had faith that she would survive this. Despite the terrible odds, the man found himself smiling - he wouldn´t give that demon the slightest of pleasures. He disarmed himself, his short sword and shield falling into the dirt. "You want her dead?" He grinned. "Kill her yourself."

"**I see." **The horrid eye sneered.** "Then the love you feel for her is as skin-deep as theirs. I´m not impressed."**

"Say whatever you feel, monster. I will not condemn her to di-"

Rothion had not finished saying his words that the mighty Soul Edge cleaved him in half.

The body hit the floor in the same way like the others in the hamlet. Just like all those who had dared to oppose the infernal artifact´s will - and like those who didn´t.

"I´m already dead."

Sophitia walked past the corpse and aimlessly headed back to the streets of the burning village. Drops of rain soon gave way to a full-blown storm. The fires died, and the darkness crept over the ruins. Among the carcasses and iluminated by lightning, a grotesque monument was erected – a twisted mound of metal and flesh. With its only eye resting over the unconscious body at its feet, the yellow orb of the void twitched - and waited.

A/N: Ha! Took me two years butI told you I was going to rewrite this.Replaced the corny dialogue with, uh, more corny dialogue and stuff I didn´t like with stuff I´m not too sure about. Well, it looks closer to what I had in mind the first time - I think.


	2. chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc. of Soul Calibur  
  
belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to  
  
them.  
  
As the lightning falls by YF-21  
  
"" denotes speech. _ _ denotes emphasis.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Why do you weep for the dead?."  
  
Although the storm was gone, the sky was still clouded and rain lightly fell over the ruins. The once fine village was razed, the fires had spreaded and consumed everything in their path.  
  
"You should rejoice, for they _died_ for you."  
  
Bodies lyed atop of each other in the village´s central square. Familiar faces among the carcasses.  
  
"Grief is as useless as love."  
  
The sentinel´s grim chore had finally come to an end. Under the Soul Edge´s supervision, it took Sophitia the entire night to drag and pile up the corpses.  
  
"They loved you enough to die for you. But at the same time, they didn´t love you _enough_ to rid you of your misery."  
  
Her hands twitched in reply.  
  
"You mortals are such petty creatures. They got themselves killed because it was _actually_ easier to die than dealing with you."  
  
...  
  
"Interesting isn´t it?. You have shed tears and blood for them, but they didn´t mind taking the easy way when things got _complicated_."  
  
Sophitia kneeled in front of the pile of bodies, the blacksmith´s sword in her hands, the tip of the blade only a few centimetres away from her flat stomach. The infernal weapon was stuck by her side, the horrid eye watching her intently.  
  
"Go ahead. Do it. Make the pain end. You are just like them. A _coward_."  
  
She was awake. She was aware. Whatever trance she was into ended abruptly, the results of her unconscious deeds rotting in front of her.  
  
The deep, masculine voice of the Soul Edge echoed in her mind, full of scorn. Despite the fact that she was no longer holding it, the sword somehow was still ´linked´ to her.  
  
"Kill yourself so the cycle may begin again, so another twenty-four can be chosen."  
  
For the last two hundred years, both Soul Edge swords had been stalked by the chosen of Hephaestus, the greek God of the forge and blacksmiths. He appointed a total of twenty-four mortals in order of the greek alphabet, each to be activated in their predecessor´s defeat. Each of their origins were unique, from the captain of the royal knights to the daughter of a baker, yet each of their spirits were the same. Each was pious with all their soul and could hear the voice of the Gods.  
  
"Kill yourself so another twenty-four can be sacrificed to _Him_."  
  
It wasn´t enough. No matter how pious they were or how strong their faith in the Gods was, they all faced grim fates. While most of them were simply slain by the Soul Edge blades, others faced fates perhaps even worse than death itself. It was even rumored that the whole ´chosen´ thing was nothing more than a fancy cover for a damnation.  
  
When the priests of the ancestral order of Hephaestus claimed that the God had designated a baker´s daughter as the next chosen, nobody gave Sophitia Alexandra the slightest of chances; but to everybody´s surprise and in spite of severe injuries, the maiden made what warriors, knights, sailors and priests couldn´t accomplish: she had destroyed at least one of the accursed weapons.  
  
Nevertheless, if Sophitia was the most successful of Hephaestus´s chosen, her fate would be the most twisted and tragic of them all...  
  
"Do it."  
  
Horrible, inexplicable images burnt in her brain. Voices. Whispers. Screams. It had to be an illusion. It had to be a trick or something. It made no sense. It was impossible. She would never let anything happen to _them_. She would have died for _them_.  
  
"What is it so hard to understand?. We killed them all, mortal."  
  
Her eyes widened. Sophitia´s body convulsed with terror as she realized the inevitable truth.  
  
"It wasn´t hard wasn´t it?. It was not difficult for you to follow my orders, whatever they were. I can´t blame you, though, since you are used to follow commands."  
  
...  
  
"After all, you are just another _pawn_ of Hephaestus, right?."  
  
The soft whimpering. Tears freely fell over the ruined land.  
  
All these last years, she had not fought for herself. She had not fought in behalf of the Gods. She had fought for _them_. Her family and friends. To spare them from the horrors she had seen during her journeys. To see them safe. To see them happy. To see them alive.  
  
Their faces. Their smiles. The way she remembered them. These memories of the better times long gone. The memories of when life was good and simple. Those were the memories that granted her the strength to carry on, to finish the divine duty. The memories of the life she had before she heard _His_ voice for the first time. The voice of Hephaestus. His calling.  
  
Why?. Why her?. Nobody could give her an answer. Not even her father, who always seemed to have an answer for everything. Not even the priests of the order. It was the God´s will.  
  
She was no warrior, she was no knight. She hadn´t even lifted a sword in her entire life!. She was not a princess nor a queen!. She was just the daughter of a baker!. Who cared about the killings in those far lands?!. They were _afar_, right?!. What business she had with the devourers of souls?!. What could she do about it?!. She was just a normal girl!.  
  
She used to be a normal girl.  
  
All those times she had to hide it. The fear. The dread. The fact that she was scared to death. She hide it from her loved beings to keep them from suffering. In those days her hands would shake from time to time, the anxiety turning into a nervous tick.  
  
"After all, there was _nothing_ you could do about it, could you?."  
  
She was not strong. She was not brave. She was weak-willed. She did not dared to refuse the calling as much as she wanted to, for fear of Hephaestus might have taken it as an insult. For fear of what the God could do to _them_.  
  
Responding the call, Sophitia became the next Sentinel and Sacred warrior of Hephaestus. Nobody else would have to take the ´honor´ in her place. Even if it was a death mark. Even if it was suicide. She accepted the task, the weapons and the burden.  
  
She left in the middle of the night, leaving her loved ones in their sleep, very behind. She did not dared to look back for fear that she might break right there. The girl had sworn that she would not return home until the duty was done, until they were safe. Until it would be over.  
  
Three years had passed since then. Three years since the last time she even heard from them. The sentinel was finally home now; the promise she had made was kept, in some sort of way...  
  
It was over.  
  
The stench of the dead filled her lungs. Whether by her hand or not, the reason of her fighting was gone.  
  
She had failed.  
  
She had failed the Gods. She had failed herself.  
  
She had failed _them_.  
  
She couldn´t take it anymore; the pain, the suffering, the helplessness. Rain of tears flowed from her eyes, the despair tearing her heart apart.  
  
Why?!. Why did They let this happen?!. How come They did not prevent this?!. Why did They took everything away from her?!. She was Their chosen!. She did Their bidding!.  
  
Damned be the Gods!. Damned be their secrecy, their whims!. They never told her anything, just what she _needed_ to know!. They never warned her of anything!. They never told her of what the cursed swords did when they shattered!. She still carried those horrible scars all over her body!. She could have died there!. They never did anything for her, despite all the things she did in Their name!.  
  
"Why would They?. You are just a name in His list. Another of the letters in His damned alphabet."  
  
Why?!. Why this?!. What _else_ did They wanted from her?!.  
  
Her eyes narrowed. She knew the answer all along...  
  
The damned thing. The Soul Edge  
  
The sentinel no longer wanted to think, to feel. Seeking refuge in the safety of anger, Sophitia stood up, the blacksmith´s sword in her hand.  
  
Red eyes met the infernal weapon, its horrid eye. The wicked smile in her face.  
  
"Will you let the Gods also take your sanity?."  
  
It didn´t matter. She no longer cared. It had to die. It had to end. Because of it, the Gods had chosen her in the first place. Because of it, her loved ones were dead. That thing had ruined her whole life.  
  
There was no wielder around, the massive Soul Edge was stuck in the ground, defenceless...  
  
The ´Swords of salvation´, the ´Blades of heroes´... They weren´t that _great_. They weren´t that _tough_. Despite all the things said and done, in the end they would shatter like every other weapon. Just like everyone else.  
  
"Yes, destroy _me_. It is what it was expected of you, isn´t it?."  
  
It was so simple. All that she had to do was to drive her blade through its eye and it would be over. Without no one interfering this time, the rain of shards would take her pain away and...  
  
She would be free.  
  
"You have lived all these last years as a pawn. Are you also willing to die as such?."  
  
The resolution in her face. Fearlessly, Sophitia walked towards the hellish blade; aiming the blade towards the sword´s eye, she thrusted the weapon- A light erupted from the eye of the Soul Edge, the sentinel´s eyes narrowing as the powerful lightning bolt hit her, sending indescriptible pain all over her body.  
  
The woman fell to her knees, the sword slipping out of her hands. Only the fading strength of her arms prevented her from collapsing; In a final gesture of defiance, she stared into the baleful eye. "Why?."  
  
"Because it wouldn´t make a difference. Your anger and despair only served Their purposes." The eye looked back at her. "Even in the end you still did Their bidding."  
  
It seemed that the Gods wouldn´t even let her have her revenge. With the last of her strengths leaving her, the girl bluntly fell to the mud, drifting into unconsciousness.  
  
////////////  
  
"You are finally awake."  
  
Sophitia´s eyes opened, her senses coming back to her. The putrid smell of the bodies. The rasping mud. The soft falling of the rain. The devastation around her. The taste of her own blood. The pain. The suffering. It was as bad as she had suspected. She was still alive.  
  
The voice of the Soul Edge still echoed in her mind, its tone cold and firm.  
  
"Tell me, why do you think I did this to you?."  
  
In her mind there was only one answer.  
  
"Revenge?. You give too much credit to yourself, mortal. Actually, I should _thank_ you for destroying my counterpart; Now that I get to keep all the souls I harvest for myself, I have only grown stronger ever since."  
  
"Why then?." Her voice was as soft as a whisper. "Why did you killed them?."  
  
"Why did I kill them?. Killing doesn´t need a purpose. The killing is its _own_ purpose. You don´t ask why a plague spreads or why a field burns. Don´t ask me why I kill."  
  
The fiendish sword needed no reason for killing. It just did. The horrid eye only sees throats and hungers for the souls beneath them.  
  
Her eyelids felt heavy. Before, the eyes of the woman had burned with intensity; Now they were devoid of life. For much as Sophitia wanted to, her bloodshot eyes couldn´t shed more tears. Everything around Soul Edge suffered. "Why have you come here?."  
  
"My counterpart and I were objects of desire to your kind. We still are. For a _small_ price we granted our wielders what they wanted. All around the world, mortals came for us, whether because of their greed, ambitions, lust for power or thirst of knowledge. It did not mattered, though, since we decided who was worthy of our hilts."  
  
...  
  
"We lived for the heat of the battle. For the thrill. For the excitement. To feast on the souls of the defeated. To smell their intoxicating fear. To watch them writhing in _delicious_ agony. To feel _alive_."  
  
The sentinel couldn´t help listening to the Soul Edge´s horrible tale. The accursed blade was no other than the ruin of the living. A hellish artifact totally bent on death and destruction.  
  
"One night a man came before us, a holy man, claiming that he have been sent on a divine quest to cleanse the land from our foul touch. The priest draw a sword that seemed to glitter in the utter darkness. A formidable weapon indeed, but useless in such uncapable hands. As soon as the fight started, the flame of his devotion was quenched by the loss of hope and as with any fool who would die because some God tells him to, we disemboweled him."  
  
...  
  
"That was only the begining. Every few years another mortal would show up, making the same ludicrous boasts and all of them, wielding the same strange sword. Some were skilled warriors. Some even proved to be quite a match for our wielders; Their courage only matched by the strength of their wills. That was the reason we couldn´t help sneering when your turn came..."  
  
...  
  
"Such arrogance proved to be my counterpart´s downfall. I had understimated you, and my mistake costed me dearly. The glittering sword was forged by no other than Hephaestus´s appointed blacksmith for the sole purpose of destroying us."  
  
...  
  
"And for the first time in my existance, I felt fear. The fear of dying. The fear to vanish. I would no longer wait for those mortals to come before me. _I_ would come to them instead. You made me understand that I had enemies out there, and that those enemies were needed to be dealt swiftly and precisely."  
  
...  
  
"Do you still think I came for your family, mortal?."  
  
Her eyes widened as she realized it. It didn´t come for her family. It didn´t come to exact revenge on her.  
  
"Those wretched swords shall _never_ threaten my existance again."  
  
Rothion.  
  
Soul Edge had come for Rothion.  
  
"He knew what there could be for him when he accepted the task."  
  
Sophitia used to recall the man with sweetness. A good friend of her older brother Lucius, Rothion was the finest blacksmith in the whole village; Such was his dedication to the forge and the quality of his works that he was even considered one of the greatest smiths in all Greece.  
  
All those afternoons spent in the smithery. After her chores were done, she would join her brother in their talks, while the men worked. There she would listen to all those marvelous tales and myths about the Gods. The all- mighty Zeus, God of the Gods. The devious Ares, God of war. The cunning Athena. The ruthless Hades, lord of the Underworld...  
  
Of Hephaestus, God of the forge. As ill-tempered as the blazing fire but as righteous and cold as the steel.  
  
But most of all, she wouldn´t get her eyes off _him_...  
  
There was something about the man; something that made her smile whenever he was around. Perhaps it was the deep hazel eyes, his funny laugh or his kind, generous spirit. Whatever the reason was, Sophitia couldn´t help feeling attracted to the blacksmith.  
  
As the warmth grew beneath her chest, also did the insecurities in her. What could she offer him?. She had heard of the women Rothion pretended during his talks with her brother. She also knew them. Gorgeous, intelligent women. What was she compared to them?.  
  
Why would the smith even notice her, as older as he was?. She was just a girl. Even if she got past her shyness to actually tell him about her feelings, what if he didn´t share them?. What if he saw her only as a friend, or even _worse_, if he saw her as a small sister?.  
  
The horrible fear of rejection kept her at bay. She would have to keep all those feelings to herself. It didn´t matter, though, because as while she could be close to him, she would be happy. Happy even if she couldn´t have him.  
  
When Hephaestus´s priests came to the village to notify her parents of her summoning as the next of the God´s chosen, Rothion interceded in her behalf and claimed that he would forge the weapons for her. It was his right, after all. Whenever the God of the forge designated a chosen, a contest would start among fellow blacksmiths to decide who would forge the weapons for the warrior; the winner would not only be endowed with the title of the God´s appointed blacksmith but would get to work with divine ore coming from the Eurydice shrine itself. Such was the honor to serve Hephaestus and such was the privilege to work with the sacred iron that the contest was indeed needed.  
  
Rothion needed no contest to be endowed with such title as the priests considered that his reputation not only exceded him, but most of all, were convinced by the fact that he was already _there_.  
  
Supplied with the sacred iron, the man worked in the smithery for days; The wait was well worth it as he ended up forging a wonderful set of weapons: The Omega sword and the Elk shield. They would not only serve her to destroy the evil blades but to guide and protect her during her journey.  
  
Only the Gods knew what the Soul Edge had done with them.  
  
"So did you."  
  
Sophitia couldn´t find the strength to stand up from the mud. She was too tired for it. What was the use in it anyways?. What for?. All the memories that gave her strength before now backfired, as she couldn´t help mourning for what she had lost. For all the friends dead. For the family she would never see again. For all those feelings untold.  
  
What was the use in living if the only thing she had left was her suffering?. The Gods had taken her reasons to fight for, if not her reasons to live for.  
  
"What are you waiting for?." The sentinel asked aloud. "I´m your enemy. Aren´t you supposed to destroy me?."  
  
Soul Edge looked at the beaten, broken woman before it. "An enemy?. The Gods have clearly forsaken you. What threat you pose to me?."  
  
"I´m still a warrior of Hephaestus."  
  
"So were the ones who came before you." The evil sword countered. "And they ended up dead or forsaken as well."  
  
"Or perhaps you thought that I was referring to His damn order as my enemies." It continued. "Do think Hephaestus chose as many mortals as He did because He had faith in them?..."  
  
"...Or because He knew they would surely _fail_?."  
  
She didn´t flinch at the sword´s words. Somehow she had always known it. She didn´t mind dying for the God if that meant that her loved ones would be safe.  
  
"That doesn´t change anything!." She yelled at it. "You live to kill! Kill me!."  
  
...  
  
"Do you find me disgusting or something, monster?!" Her voice became full of anger. "That has never stopped you before! Now, kill me!."  
  
The blazing orbs lit again, revealing the hint of the growing madness behind them. Finding the strength she needed in her hate and indignation, she found a small rock near her and tossed it at the blade.  
  
The projectile flew through the air only to bounce harmlessly off the sword.  
  
"You loved them, didn´t you?." The soft, cold voice.  
  
The red orbs stared at the baleful eye again. "Yes."  
  
"How much?."  
  
"I would have died for them." It was truth.  
  
"Really?." Soul Edge asked. "Wouldn´t you kill for them?."  
  
Her eyes widened.  
  
"Wouldn´t you kill for them, if that meant bringing them back?."  
  
"How?." The response left her at the same time she thought it.  
  
"The weight of death is heavy but not immovable." The evil sword answered. "As long as the soul, the essence perdures, nothing is truly lost."  
  
...  
  
"With the proper rituals and procedures, resurrection is only a mere step away."  
  
Soul Edge offered it´s would-be wielders what they wanted, not what they _needed_.  
  
The carnages. The horrors. The devastation. She had seen with her own eyes the remains of those villages and towns consumed by the Soul Edge´s unsatiable hunger. Would she become the wielder of the fiendish sword?. Would she trade life for life with the evil blade?. Would others have to die because of her wishes?.  
  
No. They would not. She had seen enough of the insanity; Of those wicked wielders, slaves to the will of the infernal artifact, bringing death and ruin beyond compare. She would not become part of that madness.  
  
It had taken everything away from her. She would not give it that _pleasure_. "If you are asking me to-  
  
"Spare the weak if you want. Spare the innocent, I don´t care." The infernal weapon interrupted her. "It´s not them who I seek...  
  
"I want you to shatter my enemies the same way you did with my counterpart."  
  
...  
  
"See how merciful I am?." The audible smile in its voice. "How many mortals gets second chances like this?."  
  
A second chance.  
  
A chance to set things right, to regain what she had lost.  
  
For tempting it was, she dismissed the thought. Soul Edge was not offering her a second chance, but a _damnation_.  
  
"Mercy?." She sneered at it. "Forget it monster, I will not become another of your puppets."  
  
"Actually, it is of little consequence whether you come or not." It countered. "I will always find someone else who will."  
  
Pondering over its words, she finally understood.  
  
It was happening _again_.  
  
In some way, the God of the forge was no better than the evil sword, because it is was of little consequence whether she succeded in her mission or not for there would be always someone _else_ who would be forced to do it.  
  
When she was chosen as Hephaestus´s sentinel, nobody asked her if she wanted to. She never had a choice in the matter, because for the God and the priests her opinion was completely irrelevant. It always was.  
  
From one day to another, the only priority Sophitia would have in her life would be to ensure the destruction of the infernal artifacts, regardless of the cost. But for the girl, the priorities changed as she changed during her journeys. The trials and tribulations she faced had hardened her character: she would no longer fight just to return home, she would fight to spare her loved ones from the horrors she had seen. Even if her shield carried the insignia of the God, she knew she did it only for her family.  
  
Once again, her opinion was irrelevant.  
  
Their faces. Their smiles.  
  
They had given everything for her, so that she could live. Why they were so stupid?!. Live?!. Live for what?!. Live to writhe in horror?!. Live to beg for death, as she did?!. She knew it. She was not worth it. She was not worth of the sacrifice.  
  
She was not worth of their love.  
  
It was not fair, but it was not her place to complain but to act. Soul Edge had her loved ones as ´hostages´. Whether serving a God or a demon, she would only fight for them.  
  
Once again, she didn´t have a choice in the matter.  
  
"How can I trust you?." The weak voice left her throat, as if resigned.  
  
"You can´t." Soul Edge answered. "But those who have nothing should have _nothing_ to fear."  
  
Her hands twitched in reply. There would no salvation for her, but there could still be a chance for them.  
  
A chance. To see her loved ones safe. To see them happy. To see them _alive_. Again.  
  
For this end, she would sell her body, mind and soul to very monster who killed them in the first place...  
  
...And she would be glad for it.  
  
////////////  
  
The column of light stretched out to the skies, illuminating the night sky with its glow. The phenomenon would only last for a few seconds before fading into the darkness. Some witnesses would be terrified of it, others would watch in awe. While those of different faiths would consider it a miracle of their Gods, more open minds would try to get a scientific explanation for it.  
  
But most of them would be completely ignorant of it´s meaning.  
  
Of the ruins only a smoldering crater remained, the column devastating everything in its range, the burning light consuming even the fleeting storm clouds. The smoke would dissapate into the air and the dust would finally settle, revealing a figure before the moonlight.  
  
Something. Someone.  
  
Someone had survived the blast. Someone had been spared of the glowing blaze.  
  
Soul Edge had changed, its massive form reverting into a small, thick sword. The baleful eye would stare at the nothingness, in expectation; The blade as black as its intentions.  
  
The moment the girl became Hephaestus´s warrior, she was full of fear.  
  
The moment the sentnel drove the Omega Sword into the eye of one of the infernal artifacts, her eyes had glittered with hope.  
  
The moment Sophitia Alexandra looked the reflection of her face in the remaining evil blade, she was with neither them.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Author Notes:  
  
Before anybody says anything, I already know that Lucius is Sophitia´s _younger_ brother, what I did, I did only because of a Plot purpose. I don´t think it´s actually relevant, anyways. About Rothion being older than her, well, I think he looked older in Sophitia´s SC ending.  
  
I rewrote this because it´s way closer to what I had in mind than the first time I posted this crap, I wouldn´t write it if writing wasn´t as funny as it is.  
  
Actually, these two chapters are in fact, only a prologue. Others characters will show up from now on.  
  
About my decision of making Sophie a villain, I think that given the right circumstances, she´s a funny character to mess with. You know, if it´s not tragic, it´s not greek.  
  
...And please, _review_. First time I posted this crap, I got a review that wasn´t even a review. It only takes you 2 sec and it really, really helps.  
  
Until next time.  
  
Comments?, Critics?, Death Threats?: mail me at serjzerg@hotmail.com 


	3. chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc. of Soul Calibur  
  
belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to  
  
them.  
  
As the lightning falls by YF-21  
  
"" denotes speech.  
  
_ _ denotes emphasis.  
  
* * denotes thought.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
The sun shined with intensity over the dense foliage. A gust of the warm summer wind flew by, taking a few dry leaves with it. The faint sound of birds tweeting could be heard in the distance. It was a beautiful day in a beautiful place, yet few dared to come here. Although the plague had receded a long time ago, the area was still called the ´Plaguelands´ by the people of the feud.  
  
The dark-haired woman kneeled near the mound before her. It was that time of the year. Sometimes, depending of the current task, she would come days sooner or days later but still she would come. She didn´t quite know why but she did, like she was drawn to it or something.  
  
Thus she began to pray. To pray to the heavens for the souls of the dead in that common grave. To pray for the souls of her dead family. The family she didn´t have recolection of.  
  
*This is pointless.*  
  
She had mentally kicked herself for thinking that way before, but still she couldn´t help it. The dead were dead. What was the use in praying for people whose names you don´t know?. Her parents. Her brothers. She had no memories of them. Would they still hear her prays?. Would they be able to look from the heavens and recognize _her_?.  
  
Like a thief in the night, the plague struck her village with stealth and without warning. The water, the food, even the air became tainted with its poisonous grip. As the ill began to die, the few ones untouched ran for their lives, deserting the place. So little Taki was left all by herself, her parents too weak to move; their chests barely rising and falling. Inhaling pain, exhaling life.  
  
A few days passed and the muffled voices of the sick finally stopped, leaving the village in complete silence. All Taki could do now was to wait. To wait for the plague to claim her life. She would not abandon her home. She would not abandon her family in their sleep. She would join them, soon.  
  
The heat and the smoke awoke her from her sleep. Her home was on fire. The girl tried to get to her parent´s room but the door was blocked with burning logs, the ceiling threatening to collapse in any moment. Left with little choice but escaping, Taki reached the streets to find out that it wasn´t only her house the one on fire, but that the whole village was engulfed in flames.  
  
In a sea of burning glow, the loud noise of hoofs was heard. The rider went around the corner of her home, a torch in hand, barely missing the girl. The man stopped the horse, then turned around to face the child. The rider wore black, baggy clothes. Although his face was covered with a mask, she still could see the dark eyes shining to the light of the torch. Their eyes met. Hers were tired and sad. His were cold and indifferent.  
  
No words were said. No questions were asked. The rider approached Taki and extended his free hand, their eyes still locked...  
  
In a few seconds, everything changed. Her mind. Her life. Over death, she chose to live. She took his offer, her small hand holding his. The man picked her up and they rode into the darkness, out of the blazing inferno.  
  
*Master Toki...*  
  
She owed him everything. Her life. Her love. Her loyalty.  
  
Her surrogate father introduced her into her new family. The clan. He showed her what they did, the reason of their existance. Under direct orders of the Shogun, the Fuu-Ma did what other servants wouldn´t do; they dealt with things the army couldn´t face, let alone comprehend. And exceled at it.  
  
Toki taught her to open her eyes and see. To see the invisible world that surrounds us. The creatures that lurks in it. Ghosts, demons, monsters. He taught her how to sense them. How to track them. How to slay them.  
  
Years of intense training left her mind as sharp as a blade, her body becoming a weapon as well. She had learned to channel, even to manipulate the energy of her very soul and to use it in her own advantage. The best of her master´s students, Taki became the finest of the Fuu-Ma´s demon slayers...  
  
...And his pride.  
  
Toki, although a harsh master, was a patient man. His way of teaching might look slow to some, but the results were very solid. He seemed cold and distant to most people, but that was for a reason. His own sake. He wouldn´t let the passions interfere with the task at hand. He wouldn´t let feelings get in the way of what needed to be done. There was no room for faltering in their profession. There weren´t second chances. To linger was to die.  
  
His wisdom was unquestionable. No matter the subject, Master Toki always seemed to know better...  
  
Did he?.  
  
"Hachibei, who once lead this great clan with me has stolen the spiritual ninja-tou Mekki-maru and ran away with his daughter Chie. They are now nuke- nin!."  
  
Something was wrong. Very wrong. She was startled with the anger in his voice, the hate in his eyes. Usually composed Toki now seemed blinded by fury, outraged by the loss.  
  
Taki stood up. Another gust of wind flew by, caressing her hair, her skin. It was her fault. _She_ was the one that should have known better.  
  
She was the one that brought that thing to Japan. That damned shard.  
  
She should have known better when the shards she extracted, still drenched in the blood of _that_ girl, merged into one. Her beloved Rekki-maru shivered, refusing to come near the evil thing. Even in that weakened state, she could still hear its voice, whispering in her mind. She should have get rid of it when she had the chance...  
  
...But even then it was way too good a chance to let it just pass. The potential was enormous. Once tamed, that shard would prove-  
  
...  
  
The questions disturbed her even that day. Did it fooled her?. Did she _allowed_ it to fool her?. Had it simply clouded her judgement?. You don´t wield Soul Edge. Soul Edge wields _you_. It cannot be tamed, nor subdued or controlled. It can only be destroyed.  
  
The whispers. Promises of knowlegde, of power. Was she truly that _weak_?...  
  
Fused with the the cursed shard, the spiritual blade now reeked of corruption; it´s dark aura tainting minds and twisting wills.  
  
"I order you to find them and return Mekki-maru dead or alive!".  
  
The whole idea sickened her. Hachibei and Chie, once part of her family, now were marked for death. Master Hachibei showed her the secrets of the forge and ´inherited´ from him her love for it. She had known Chie since they were children, and even today the girl remained as one of her few friends.  
  
Weren´t they family?. Didn´t she love them?.  
  
Could she defy _him_?. Could she betray _him_?.  
  
But orders were orders, whether she liked them or not. And if she had a problem with those orders, she knew that the rest wouldn´t. That brute Geki and the others.  
  
Her eyes narrowed, her mind made up. She couldn´t waste more time here. She would track the nuke-nin down, find them and once she had them...  
  
She wouldn´t know what to do.  
  
////////////  
  
The sparrow gracefully jumped from one branch of the tree to another, barely bothering to flap its wings. Lost in its own world, the bird seemed busy now as it chirped; the sweet melody getting lost in the woods. Busy enough to ignore the attentive stare of the figure resting in the opposite tree.  
  
A small smile came to her lips. She had always liked birds.  
  
Where birds could simply fly away from their problems, she could not. Where birds could always find a way home, she could not. Where birds were free, she was not.  
  
She had always admired them. Envied them.  
  
Those things were so irrelevant now. With a sigh, Sophitia Alexandra closed her eyes, waiting for the images to come to her mind, again. Images of ashen fields, of black rains, of death and decay. Images that weren´t part of her memories, but came to her nonetheless. They were disturbing at first but as the days passed, she had learned to ignore them. For terrible they were, there was no worse image for her than her own reality.  
  
She shouldn´t stop. Sophitia sighed again, stronger this time. She knew she shouldn´t stop, as the memories would come back to her. The horrible deeds. When she moved she didn´t have to think. Only when she moved she could run away from her pain.  
  
For countless days she wandered through the forests, unaware of her location. Never resting. Never stopping.  
  
There was no need to. Not once since _then_ Sophitia had felt tired. She no longer felt hungry or thirsty. The sentinel knew why, though. The energy of the wicked blade now ran through her veins, as it shared its unholy strength with her. She no longer wondered how _he_ had managed to elude her grasp so many times in the past. Smacked up with the intoxicating power of Soul Edge, the azure knight was on the move constantly, day and night. Never resting. Never _stopping_.  
  
She feared it. That power. The same power that enhanced her body could corrode her soul.  
  
She wouldn´t become a monster. Not like _him_. Never like him. She wouldn´t let that thing come close to anybody again, less ruin anybody else´s life. Even if she had to spend the rest of her life in solitude in those woods to make sure of it..  
  
She was kidding herself. Sophitia opened her eyes, the red orbs lost in the inmensity of the forest. That was just wishful thinking. All of it.  
  
Soul Edge. She had no control whatsoever over it. Whether she didn´t know where she was, she was sure _it_ did. It wasn´t just mere luck the fact that in all this time they never ran into somebody or ended in some village. It was like the infernal artifact wanted to remain unseen, unnoticed.  
  
It looked like Omega.  
  
The small, thick blade. The thin, short hilt. The accursed weapon seemed to mimic the steel of the Gods. The similarities were obvious, as it even had the same decorations of her lost sword.  
  
But it was no such. Soul Edge wasn´t imitating Omega. It was mocking it.  
  
Part metal, part flesh; the damned blade lyed on the grass, it´s eye closed. It had remained that way since she became its wielder, never hearing the dark voice again.  
  
Sophitia looked at it with comtempt. Once, she had sworn to destroy it; now she was bound to it.  
  
Soul Edge didn´t change from its zweihander form so that she could make more use of it, it changed so that _she_ could be more useful to _it_. By adapting to fit her skills, it made sure that she could properly serve its goals. In the end, it only helped itself.  
  
"...Your anger and despair only served Their purposes."  
  
Its words. Now she could clearly see the irony in them. If those feelings served the Gods for Their purposes, the same feelings now served the infernal artifact for its own. Whether the case, she was being used. Whether the case, there was nothing she could do about it.  
  
A pawn.  
  
It had been right then. She was nothing more than a pawn. A replaceable, expendable pawn.  
  
_Their_ faces. _Their_ smiles.  
  
An iron resolve invaded the sentinel. The Gods had forsaken her, but she would burn in Hades before she forsake _them_. Her soul would be too small a price to atone for her failure.  
  
Sophitia lifted the wretched sword and resumed walking, wherever it took her. Her dead wouldn´t be less dead if she stayed there.  
  
////////////  
  
The heat of the midday sun burned over the crater. Blurry forms seemed to appear out of the thin air only to disappear again; mere tricks to the eye. Trails of dust danced in the air, lifted by the relentless wind. Cold blue eyes gazed over the wasteland, barely noticing the lack of trees, of clouds, of life.  
  
She didn´t mind the desolation that much. She had seen worse.  
  
The tall woman stood near the crater´s edge, comtemplating the devastation. A white cloak covered her pale features, protecting the alabaster skin from the vicious sunlight.  
  
The peasants of the nearby villages had called it the wrath of the Gods. Isabella knew otherwise. Evil. This was a work of evil. An evil that couldn´t be simply cleansed, but needed to be excised.  
  
An evil that had taken too much of her already.  
  
Her family´s wealth. Her family´s position. Her _family_.  
  
The Count´s obsession. A key to immortality. A panacea to cure all illness. Soul Edge.  
  
The reclusion. The madness. A vast fortune wasted in useless efforts. The disease that overcame him. Once favored in the king´s court, the Valentines had slipped into disgrace. Doors were shut, old friends turning their backs. For all it was worth, their prestige was gone; all that remained from a life of comfort and luxury was a decayed estate and numerous debts. Overwhelmed by sadness, it didn´t took long for the Countess to follow him to the grave, but not before telling her...  
  
Isabella clenched her fists. It didn´t matter. It would never matter. They would always be her _parents_. She would always be _their_ daughter. Nobody else´s.  
  
Left with nothing but her grief, her shame and her anger, the remaining Valentine seeked refuge in the Count´s study. For the first time in months a smile formed in her lips as the idea crept into her mind. She immersed herself in her father´s books, in his notes. She spent years there, in self- teaching. All those secrets. All those revelations. All those forbidden arts.  
  
She had the knowledge. She had the power. She had the _names_, the connections.  
  
Now she could have her revenge.  
  
She would fight fire with fire. Only evil would destroy evil, as her creation twisted with an unholy strength. She would dispose of it eventually, as she would with all those who allowed themselves to be lured by the Soul Edge´s siren´s call. That evil would be erradicated. No matter the cost. No matter the price. No matter who.  
  
But where one thing was fighting Soul Edge, another completely different was _finding_ it. Adams, de Leon, Vercci. In the end all clues led to the death merchant, but...  
  
She had heard of the column of light, but never seen it before. It was beautiful, the thin white tower piercing the nightsky. The wretched sword wasn´t in the money pit, but in the mountains of the east.  
  
It wasn´t here either.  
  
It was a dead-end. Isabella closed her eyes, shaking the frustration that overwhelmed her. Now there was no chance to know where the cursed sword was.  
  
Or perhaps there was...  
  
She knew of them, but never meet them before. The heretics. A dark cult, Fygul Cestemus had a huge influence in the western Asia Minor and their eyes and ears everywhere. She knew they worshipped Palgaea, some sort of goddess of destruction, in a struggle to bring forth the apocalpyse. Or so she had heard.  
  
Actually the countess couldn´t care less about their goals or intentions but the fact that they might put her back in the trail of the Soul Edge seemed appealing enough to listen to them. And then again, it was _them_ the ones who contacted her.  
  
Without much options, she guessed she would have to play along for a while...  
  
"I´ll come with you."  
  
Turning around from the crater, she was greeted by a pair of black eyes.  
  
Covered in a brown cloak, the man merely nodded. He turned his back on her and lead the way, walking from the place where he had been patiently waiting for her decision.  
  
Following the acolyte, Isabella smiled to herself. This might prove useful, after all.  
  
_Right_.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Author Notes:  
  
I know, it´s the lame character introduction chapter. And it´s short too. It needed to be done, though; you don´t want the characters to be already _there_, right?.  
  
Taki´s clan is actually enlisted as Fu-Ma, not Fuu-Ma, but there was this guy from the awful World Heroes game called Fuu-Ma and I know that Fuu means wind in japanese so I thought that it might be a translation typo...  
  
The greek hell is called Tartarus, not Hades. Hades is just the king of the dead, lord of the underworld blah blah blah.  
  
Now let´s get to the reviewers. You guys kick ass. I got four reviews in two days and then the inspiration hit me. I would have posted this anyways but it would have taken longer. Yes, even _longer_.  
  
regie27: Thanks! See you at TA.  
  
lordfolken: I´ve only played DOA 2 a couple of times and save for the big boobs it didn´t call my atention that much. If you don´t mind Yuri (awwww, come on!) you should check Kaiser Ryouga II´s fics. He´s one of the best fanfic authors out there and he has written a couple of great DOA fics.  
  
Cowgrree: Someone _actually_ liked my SE characterization!. Sophie hates SE but at the same time, she´s stuck with it. More interaction to come.  
  
I know I might start to sound annoying but I´m having chapter 1 rewritten. It shouldn´t take long, though.  
  
Guess that´s it this time, please don´t forget to review!.  
  
Comments?, Critics?, Death Threats?: mail me at hafhmii@yahoo.com.ar 


	4. Compulsion

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc. of Soul Calibur belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to them.

As the lightning falls by YF-21

"" denotes speech.

denotes emphasis.

Chapter 4

"You promised us Soul Edge."

The elderly man stood over in the circle sculpted in the stone floor as he gazed upon the candle-lit vast room. Fourteen circles surrounded his own, seven larger and seven smaller. Other elders stood over the smaller circles, one man for each circle and everyone keeping the same distance from each other, though in different places. All their gazes falling upon him. It was supposed to be that way. As the Earth, High priest Kumpaetku was currently the center of the universe of the Fygul Cestemus.

"You promised Palgaea Soul Edge."

The smaller circles around him represented the celestial bodies and the larger ones represented their orbits around the Earth. Each one of the arc priests a part of the universe.

"We are most disappointed."

And the universe was certainly pissed off.

His eyes fell on the man in the farthest circle. The arc priest priest representing Jupiter seemed like he was on his early forties, while the closest priest to him, the Moon, was only a couple years younger than him.

His old, wrinkled face remained impassive before the accusations. Such dimmisive attitude was merely one of the cult´s protocol. None of the arc priests had real power over him, or could affect his decisions. But while their contempt was pretty much useless, their Lord´s wasn´t. Palgaea didn´t not suffer fools or incompetents for long, and sometimes, not even that much. Given the ill temper of their god, the high priest was a glorious, yet usually short-lived position.

"Palgaea will have Soul Edge." -Kumpaetku said, his tone calm though firm- "These inconvenients are only temporary."

"Are we worrying too much about this, high priest?." –He heard the familiar high pitched voice itching in his ears- "Should we assume that you know where the blade is, and that everything is under control?."

That voice. Kumpaetku quickly spun around, facing the source of the comment. Their eyes met, an intense stare in the older man´s brown orbs. Realizing his mistake, the arc priest quickly broke the gaze and flinched. The fact that he had been taken part of these meetings through the years didn´t meant that the high priest would endure such disrespect.

"We must stick to the known patterns." -The high priest continued- "When it-"

"It is not feeding." –A voice quietly said, interrupting him- "There is no longer a pattern to follow."

Kumpaetku turned around again, now facing the closest arc priest to him. His would-be sucessor, the Moon. How _dared_ he, after all this time to question the patterns?!.

Since the column of light pierced the spanish skies, two years ago, Europe had submerged into a paranoia, as the countrysides of the Spanish empire, the kingdom of France and the German states gradually fell pray to something. Something that it couldn´t be killed. Something that it couldn´t be found. Something that left nothing in its wake. Through time and constant observation, the Fygul Cestemus had estimated that every a three-four weeks period; the azure nightmare would lay waste of a random village before dissapearing into the dense forests again, covered by the darkness. Always moving.

Always heading east.

"It will have to, sooner or later. And once we pick the trail again-"

"And once you pick the trail again, what?." –The Moon priest cut him in again- "Who knows where it could go until it decides to do something?...

"Who knows where it could go until you decide to do something?."

How many meetings like this had he taken part through the years?. How many times had he made the same accusations against his superiors?. The elderly merely arched his eyebrows. It was always amusing to him how quickly the inner circle support shifted from one stance to another. Judging by the results of his decisions, these men could turn fom being his most fervent oppositors to disgusting little toadies in seconds.

It did little on Kumpaetku´s favor that the promotions in the inner circle of the cult were hereditary. Should something happen to him, the Moon would become the Earth, as the Sun would become the Moon and so on. Sooner or later, every other man standing in this room were assured to become a high priest.

"Astaroth will retrieve the blade, as it was intended." The elderly simply replied, ignoring the priest´s argument.

"Don´t give that thing too much credit."-Another voice warned- "That dumb brute of yours still has to prove it´s worth."

The high priest suddenly smirked. Now it was his turn to fake amusement. "You give it very few, given what it is. Should I inform Palgaea of the lack of trust of the conclave in his subjects?."

"Inform our Lord of our lack of trust in you and _rid_ us from your staggering incompetence!."

Silence fell over the room. Kumpaetku casted a glare throughout the vast hall, and much to his own surprise he found Jupiter staring back. The elderly opened his mouth but just before he was going to say something, he was interrupted again.

"Have you heard the rumors, high priest?."-The Moon priest asked- "Of the new wielder of the blade?."

Kumpaetku noticed the emphasis the arc priest put in his title. It was clearly a remindful to the others of who he was, and the respect he still deserved. Turning to him, he calmly answered.

"I am completely aware of the situation."

"What do you think of it?."

"It doesn´t matter what I think of it. The results will be the same."

"Why so sure of this?."-The arc priest questioned- "The wielder is a sentinel of Hephaestus."

"The sentinel is a woman." Kumpaetku answered dimmisevely.

"A woman, yes. A woman that shattered the female blade on ocassion."

"It won´t make a difference. Sophitia Alexandra will be no match for our champion. Soul Edge may hide behind whoever it wants, but in the end, it just comes to a matter of time."

"Time that we do not have."-The man warned- "Palgaea must have the male blade."

Time he did not have. "I am confident in my methods. Trust me on this." –The high priest turned around, adressing the other men in the hall- "With your support, Palgaea will have Soul Edge!."

Silence fell over the room again. Kumpaetku passively watched as the arc priests looked at each, approvingly.

A small smile came to the elderly lips. _Of course_.

"You have the full resources of Fygul Cestemus at your disposition, high priest."-The Sun priest announced.- "Do as you seem fit."

"Do not disappoint us again." The Moon priest remarked.

With all the men in the room agreeing, the meeting from this point reverted to the usual practices of the cult. Strange words from an unspeakable language filled the hall, as they were pronounced by the priests chanting in unison. The dark spell would take hours to complete. Plenty of work remained to be done before they could report to their Lord their complete failure to make any progress.

* * *

_The afternoon sun came through the window, liting the room. A basket lyed over a table, large loafs of bread in it. It was covered with a blanket, carefully pulled up lillies decorating the handles. A small reassuring smile came to her lips. He would enjoy that... and Lucius too, right._

__

_"I knew I´d find you here."_

__

_Cassandra Alexandra closed the door behind her as sofly as she had opened it. Lost in her own thoughts, Sophitia didn´t even seem to acknowledge the fourteen-year old stepping into the room._

__

"_Father is looking for you. He wants you to prepare the dough for tomorrow."_

__

_Frowning for a second, Sophitia´s gaze fell over the basket again. She definitively had no time for that now. Maybe later._

__

"_Can´t you take care of that, Cassie?. I have other things to do."_

__

"_Yeah, like drooling over Lucius´s friend."_

__

_Turning to face her sister, Sophitia told herself to keep a stern face. Cassandra could be such an annoying brat sometimes. It was better to cut her in to avoid the conversation from getting... well, there._

__

_Her tone of voice, though, betrayed her altogether. "I-I´m not!" –she said defensively, almost squealing- "I´m just taking this basket just if Lucius is hungry or something!."_

Too late. The look in Cassandra´s eyes. The mocking smile in her face. Not this again!.

"_Oh, I believe you, Sophie." –Her head tilted to the side, her eyes rolling.- "I just wanted to know something..."_

__

"_Yes?..." _

__

"_What do you see in him?. It´s the deep hazel eyes pulling you in?... Or maybe it´s his strong, warm arms circling your waist as he-"_

__

_Sophitia´s face was completely red by now. "It´s not like that!."_

__

"_Of course it´s not." –Cassandra said, as a matter of factly- "I think it´s more like this: Sophie and Rothie sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-"_

__

"_Hey, stop it!."_

__

Sophitia rested her hand against a tree, trying to calm herself down, her heart still pounding inside her chest. That had been too much. The memories just kept coming, the remorse and the sorrow weighing her down. No matter what she tried to keep her mind clear, they just kept coming. Despite she didn´t feel tired, her feet felt heavy, and with each step she gave the heavier they felt.

She had told herself a hundred times before. She had to be strong. To be strong to them. There was nothing to be gained in wailing in the past.

Their faces. Their smiles.

Her lips pursed into a pout. It was so hard to forget. She found out that the time didn´t heal the wounds like people said. In fact, it made them worse.

Her gaze fell to the thing in her hand. The wicked sword. It wouldn´t kill her. Actually, it had refused to devour her. And now, still lost in the woods and without the slightest idea of what to do or where to head, she was completely at it´s mercy.

Whatever it was.

"**Is there something wrong, _Sophie?_."**

The voice interrupted her train of thought. The cold, mocking voice of the Soul Edge now echoed in her head, the first time in weeks. The eye above the hilt remained closed, the black blade dirty with dryed mud and grass.

"Don´t call me that."

"**Don´t call you _what_, Sophie?."**

****

"Don´t call me Sophie." She answered bluntly.

"**But I happen to like how it sounds." **–The voice said sardonically- **"It certainly sounds better than Cassie or Rothie."**

****

Her heart skipped a beat. Angrily, Sophitia lifted the infernal artifact to her face. Her red orbs threw a glare to the closed eye of the sword, as if it somehow could see her back.

"I´ll be damned the day I humour you" –Her calm tone was only betrayed by her gritting teeth- "...and I´ll be more damned the day I let you defile my memories of them."

"**How blunt."** –It answered, in an mockingly offended tone-** "And here I thought that you liked me."**

****

Sophitia closed her eyes. She wouldn´t let it get to her. Taking a deep breath, the maiden calmed herself and lowered the blade, her hold on the hilt softening.

"**I mean, after all I did for you, you _should_ like me."**

****

Enough.

Unable to repress her anger anymore, Sophitia carelessly threw the sword away. The blade noisily hit the trunk of a nearby tree and fell over the grass.

After the outburst, the sentinel didn´t even bother to look at it. "What do you want?." She asked, contempt in her voice.

"**Are you just going to stand there or do you plan to pick me up?."**

"What do you want?!." She asked again, louder this time. Her voice losing itself in the woods.

"**I want you to pick me up."** It insisted.

Sophitia sighed. She guessed she had to do it. Lost in her own thoughts, the maiden failed to notice a huge root sprouting off the ground, right in her way. Tripping over it and her own feet, Sophitia lost balance and fell flat on her face.

"**How dignifying, Sophie."**

Save for the numb feeling in her nasal bone, Sophitia was unharmed. The fall didn´t hurt, but she still rub her nose out of spite. Once back on her feet again, the girl stood before the evil sword.

"**I´m starving."**

****

No... Her eyes widened. Not _that_.

Surprised, Sophitia unconsciously took a step back. She wanted to hear nothing about that. Anything but that.

"**I must feed. Feed me."**

****

The fire. The slaughters. The blood. In a second, all those horrible images crept in her mind at the same time.

"You never said that I had to feed you." She complained.

"**I thought that it was implied." **–The voice answered-** "The hunger is endless, you know."**

****

"You thought wrong." –Her tone firm- "I won´t kill for you."

"**Actually, you are not killing for me." **–It said, as a matter of factly-** "It is natural to sustain what maintains you, isn´t it?."**

****

A shiver ran through her body. It was truth then. The power of the Soul Edge had nurtured her all along.

Another image came to her mind, more powerful than the others. On top of a small hill, a sinister figure awaits, twisted metal and flesh. The moonlight bouncing off the rusted azure plates, blazing orbs gazing upon the quiet hamlet beneath its feet. A dark knight. A herald of death.

An armored nightmare.

It won´t listen. It won´t listen to reason nor their pleas. It won´t listen to his own screams.

The insidious voice in his head is all that he can hear. Whispering, suggesting...

Demanding.

The grip of the grotesque claw on the massive blade tightens. Soon, it would be fed.

Sophitia brought the palm of her hands to her temples, as if to shake the vision off her head.

Falling to her knees, a hundred thoughts raced through her mind. The former sentinel of Hephaestus now desperately looked for an excuse, for something, anything. Anything to keep her from doing what she was supposed to do.

"You said... You said that-"

"**It´s true." **–It cut in-** "I do not seek the weak or the innocent, but that doesn´t mean that I won´t feed from them. The hunger is unforgiving, too."**

****

It _lied!_. It _lied_ to her!. Out of indignation, the maiden felt the anger boiling up within her chest.

"**I did not lie."**-It defended itself-** "You may spare their lives if you want, but I _won´t_**_._

**__**

"Monster! I never agreed to such thing!"–She shouted at it- "You wanted me to destroy your enemies, not to _feed_ you!."

"**I never implied otherwise. The fault comes to you for _twisting_ what I say."**

****

Sophitia was left speechless. She certainly wasn´t expecting that.

Slowly, she finally got it. She had been fooled. Badly.

Soul Edge didn´t lie. It just didn´t told her the entire truth. The stipulations she had made with the male blade were as good as nothing, for in the end it´s needs would overrode her wishes.

Her heart sunk with the realization. Chances were that if she had been fooled with this, she might have been fooled with _other_ things too.

"I can´t... I can´t do that."

"**You don´t have to be so melodramatic. It is simpler than you think."**

****

It couldn´t force her to do that, right?. Her gaze now fell over her sickly pale hands. She could almost see the thin blue veins running through them. Softly and slightly, they begun to shake. She wouldn´t become a monster like him, _right?_.

No.

She stood up, her shaking hands turning into fists. Leaving the vacilation behind, her eyes hardened, now facing the wicked blade lying on the grass.

"I won´t do that." –Her tone firm and resolute- "There´s got to be another way."

"**There is no other way."**

****

"I´ll find one."

An uneasy silence fell between them. The rustle of leaves in the wind.

"**I might have misjudged you."**

****

Taken aback, her eyes narrowed. _What?_.

"**You are free from our covenant."**

****

Sophitia merely had to time to blink once, just before all the muscles in her body suddenly tensed and cramped.

The maiden fell to her knees and collapsed over the grass, her whole body contorting in fevered convulsions, the unbearable pain overcoming her. In horror and disbelief, the open eyes of the helpless sentinel sunk to the infernal artifact beside her.

**"Such a waste."**

A battle raged in her bowels, a warmth slowly spreading in her intestines, the suffocating dryness in her throat. Without the power of the male blade to sustain her, all the exhaustation, hunger and thirst from weeks of mindless wandering in the forest finally caught up with her, weighing her down at the same time.

This was it. Soul Edge would finally kill her.

"**While the pain is fleeting, remorse is _eternal._"**

****

Images passed before her eyes. The golden sun. The imposing mounts. Light and water.

Her gaze shot to the sky, but instead of the clouds, Sophitia managed to see other things. Images of her beloved mother, of her father, of her brothers. Children´s laughter filled her ears. The smell of fresh baked bread in the morning. A clang of iron. Her first love. For an instant, she no longer was lost in a deep forest but in her home village, surrounded with sensations and feelings long lost.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Despite the numbing pain, Sophitia´s lips curled into a full smile, the first in weeks. The last one.

Her eyes closed, and the pleasant images were soon replaced with others. Images of death and decay, fire and ruin. The sound of laughter replaced by screams. Of people she had known. Of people she had loved. The pulsing eye of the wicked blade burning in her mind, bathed in blood.

Blood in her hands, in her clothes. The same blood.

_No..._

__

Their faces. Their smiles.

She would never see that again.

_No!!!!..._

__

The silent scream. Sophitia simply lyed over the grass, her contracted body no longer shaking, her chest no longer rising.

Silence.

"**Ignore my demands again, and I´ll see how you twist and squirm a hundred times before I let life escape your frail, worthless little being."**

****

The maiden opened her bloodshot eyes, taking a deep breath as she suddenly roared back to life. The convulsions had stopped, the pain in her body gone. With the sound of her beating heart filling her ears, Sophitia found herself resoplating and alive, very alive. Running a couple of fingers through her throat, all there was left from the terrible experience was an awful yet indescriptible sensation all over her.

"**You get _this_, don´t you?." **

The message was perfectly clear. If she refused to do its bidding, the Soul Edge would not hesitate to get rid of her. Still gripping to her altered senses after her brush with death, Sophitia weakly managed to nod.

"**Good."**-The audible smile echoed in her mind, the hint of threat in it completely lost- **"Aren´t you glad that we could clearly understand each other, _Alexandra?_."**

****

"**Good."**

****

To be continued...

A/N: And with the usual self-indulgence that comes with everything I write I present you chapter 4. Wow, this sucker took a while to get posted, didn´t it?. I´m sure next chapter won´t take as long, but who knows?. Next will be a huge-ass update with Chapter 1 finally re-written and stuff.

Most of you, experimented writers and readers have surely noted that I. Can´t. Simply. Stop. Writing. In. Fucking. Sentence. Fragments. I´m trying the best I can, but that somehow escapes me. I mean, in the first version of this chapter, Nightmare wouldn´t listen to five different things starting with ´It wouldn´t´, all in the same paragraph!. Then it comes to reading my own stuff. I like it when I write it, but I absolutely hate it when I have to proof-read it. Would somebody out there like to be my beta-reader?. Leave me your E-mail adress and we can talk about it.

Shit, I need to improve. Now be good readers and please, review. It helps. Really.

Jays Arravan: Of course Siegfried will take a place here. He and the rest of the characters will be showing up next. Promise.


	5. Guilt

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc of Soul Calibur belongs to Namco. They´re not mine and I make no claim to them.

As the lightning falls by YF-21

"" denotes speech.

_Denotes emphasis/flashback.  
_

Chapter 5

Loyal and fervent, the guards of the Fygul Cestemus commited themselves to the cult with fanatical devotion, bolstered with promises of salvation from the upcoming apocalypse. The would-be recruits were gathered from the nearby lands at young age, their cruel training spanning through most of the adolescence. At the early stages, the harsh instructors pitted the fresh blood against each other in fights to death. This way they made sure that they would not only cull the weak, but that the survivors were worth of training. If a recruit wasn´t strong enough to kill one of their kindred, how would he possibly fare against the creatures in the lower levels of the shrine?. There was no average between their files. Average had been either killed or eaten time ago.

While most of them would end up as guards and soldiers, the ones with innate skills would take the _honor_ of being subjects to the conclave´s practices. There was no greater joy than serving Palgaea. The priests could hear it in their every scream.

They were trained to be strong, agile and skilled with the blade. But most importantly, they were trained to ask no questions. So, when the two young guards were asked to escort a certain individual to the High Priest´s chambers, they had to gulp down all their fears and doubts. Though they wouldn´t dare to discuss it in the moment, both men mutually agreed on one thing. Whatever it was, it resembled a human being.

Sort of.

A heart beated outside it´s chest. The pupil-less eyes seemed to glow before the pale torch lights. The guards had to quicken their pace merely to keep up with the giant´s, as it relentlessly trailed through the dark passages. Though they were supposed to lead the way, the guards did their best to keep their distance from the creature; if half the tales of it´s exploits were true, they weren´t without reasons. Above all things, the champion of Palgaea was particularily feared for it´s cruel, brutal nature. The leader of the cult´s search parties, the ill-tempered golem was known for shaking off it´s anger and frustration to it´s subordinates, often with bloody results. In most encounters with the Ottoman authorities, the giant was better left on it´s own, as it rarely bothered to double-check it´s targets. Though it moved like a living thing, anyone could tell it lacked a soul- or mercy.

With the golem towering over them, the guards hastily made their way from the corridors and walked into a vast hall. Strange creatures and entities were engraved in the wall´s mosaics – A woman with of four arms, a tall lizard standing on it´s rear legs, among others. More impressive were the statues, some of men, some of something else. Twisted and vivid, the sculptors had really put their hearts into them, as the figures seemed to have been alive at some point.

The giant stopped dead in it´s tracks. Surprised, the men turned around and became more alarmed when they found the creature submmisively bowing. Mustering their courage to ask what was wrong, the guards failed to notice the faint footsteps coming from the opposite corridor.

"Ah, the champion of Palgaea has returned..." A familiar voice echoed in the hall. "Fygul Cestemus welcomes you back, mighty Astaroth."

Now clearly terrified, the guards clumsily turned around again, just to meet the high priest walking towards them. Doing their best to regain their lost composture, they stood firm and prepared to pay their respects.

"Leave us." The voice growled behind them. Not daring to be told a second time, the men quickly broke lines and left the hall.

"I can only hope that your journey back was uneventful, my friend."

Astaroth looked up, and bored his empty eyes into Kumpaetku´s. While most men would usually look away, this man would not.

"How did you find Prussia?." The high priest asked, a hint of smile forming in his lips. "I´ve heard it´s beautiful in the summer."

"Prussia..." The creature struggled with the words for a moment. "Prussia is _fine_, my master."

The old man enjoyed making small talk with the hulking golem, and looked forward to it whenever the occasion arose. Unlike his fellow priests, the giant wasn´t able to lie or plot against him.

"Good." The smile dropped and the man´s voice adquired a serious tone. "Guess now you can tell me why you have failed to retrieve the sword."

"It´s not feeding. There´s no way to tell where it will head." Astaroth lowered his head. "I´m sorry, my master."

"I am confident in your skills, friend." His gray eyes flickered and the smile returned. "Hard game Soul Edge has proven to be, but it won´t be able to elude your grasp forever."

"If the master says so..."

"I say so, but I´m afraid that that isn´t enough. Palgaea is not pleased."

_Of course _themaster_ wasn´t pleased._ Astaroth regained his composture, dwarfing the small man beside him. "As soon as the master seems fit, I will return to Europe and make sure the men doubles their efforts." The golem suggested. "Palgaea _will_ have the blade."

"That won´t be necessary."

The giant blinked. "I beg your pardon?."

"Have you heard of the Priests of the Wind?." Kumpaetku asked.

"Should I have?."

The high priest suppresed a chuckle. "No. Of course not. But if their skills are somewhere near close to what I´ve heard, they might put us back on the right track."

"I understand. Does the master needs me to-"

"To _recruit_ one of them?." The elder interrupted. "Yes, of course."

"I shall part as soon as I gather the men."

"Actually, that won´t be necessary either." Kumpaetku looked over the golem and yelled. "Calcos!."

Astaroth turned around as he heard _something_ stir behind him. His empty eyes slightly widened in surprise as he identified a lizard shaped after a man as the source of the sudden stirring.

Or was it a man shaped after a lizard?...

The lizard stood in what would be it´s rear legs. A long tail sprouted from –well, from where a tail sprouts from a lizard, the golem decided. Strong, muscular arms ended in sharp claws and light armor protected where the sturdy scales couldn´t get. A spark of intelligence shone in the reptillian eyes, as the creature stared at the giant intensely.

"Impressive, isn´t he?." The high priest remarked.

Astaroth menacingly returned the stare and held the head of the lizard in place. Neither of them looked away. It wasn´t scared. That lizard was either very brave or very stupid.

"Yes... Impressive." Astaroth said dimmisively as he broke the stare and turned to the high priest. "I had understood that the synthetics experiment was a failure."

"It was certainly a dissapointment." Kumpaetku commented. "But we realized that the few subjects that survived the transmutation held a lot of potential, so we decided to continue it. Calcos here is the finest Lizardman of the batch."

At hearing his name, the lizardman properly bowed to them.

"He understands..."

"Oh, he does." The elder man nodded. "Unlike the others, Calcos has proven to be highly intelligent. He will certainly come in handy when you deal with the others."

This didn´t look good. "Do you want me to take them with me?."

"Of course. It will be a good opportunity to see them in action."

"As the master wishes." Astaroth turned to the lizardman. "You will follow my instructions, _will_ you?."

Calcos merely just stared at him.

"Calcos will follow your orders unquestiongly." Kumpaetku said. "I have ordered him so."

The golem muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Those _things_ were as good as dead.

"The Lizardmen know their place, Astaroth." The high priest raised his voice. "Just as _you_ do."

Astaroth respectfully bowed and Calcos inmediately followed. "I´m sorry, my master."

"You may leave." The high priest said as he turned around, walking towards the corridors.

"I live to serve." Kumpaetku heard the giant say behind him. He didn´t bother to answer back. _Don´t we all?...  
_

* * *

_  
The man readjusted the visor of his helmet, thick drops of sweat running from his forehead towards his chin. It was heavy, too heavy. The armor that was supposed to offer him protection only constrained his movements. But now, after what he had seen, he wasn´t even sure that it would help him at all. He gulped with fear, his hands shaking. Muttering under his breath, he told himself to calm down. If he couldn´t pull his act together, he would never see his family again. He couldn´t let that _child _kill him. _

_The child with the monstrous blade.  
_

Run!,_ a voice in his mind screamed, _Run away!_. His mind pleaded him to flee, but his body wouldn´t move. The captain readied his weapons and prepared himself. The child kept walking towards him, the massive sword in his hands. _For the love of God, run!_. The man shushed the voice and made up his mind. He would avenge his fallen comrades.  
_

_This was the place where he would make his stand.  
_

_For a moment, a strange peace invaded him. His head felt lighter, and his bulky armor no longer bothered him. The captain felt the urge to remove his helmet, so he could take a better look of his opponent.  
_

_Judging from his looks, the boy wasn´t younger than sixteen, yet he didn´t look older than eighteen. His blonde hair was short, and his skin of the face, pale. The most striking feature of the child were his eyes, as red as the blood. He had never seen before eyes like those. Eyes so disgusting.  
_

_The man took a deep breath. He was ready now.  
_

"_You won´t kill me." He said solemnly. "I will not allow it."  
_

_The boy didn´t reply. Instead of that, he merely took a fighting stance.  
_

"_Do your worst."  
_

_The boy swung his sword. Instinctively, he brought his shield to block and...  
_

_His sword fell to the grass. The only thing the captain could do now was to stare in disbelief at the black blade lodged in his ribcage. The massive sword had torn through his shield and armor in a single thrust.  
_

_Blood gushed from his mouth. Until now, he didn´t notice how strange the boy´s weapon was. He had never noticed the horrid orb staring back.  
_

_He would have screamed but his strengths had already left him, the lights in his eyes gone. The body staggered and knocked to the ground.  
_

_Siegfried unceremoniously pulled Soul Edge out of the man. More blood poured from the carcass, as it laid motionless on the grass. The captain was more than dead. The infernal artifact had devoured his soul.  
_

"_**Dying is a soldier´s only talent."  
**_

_Siegfried had never felt guilty for killing soldiers before. They knew what there could be for them. Though the boy didn´t feel any sympathy for the man, he couldn´t blame him for trying to fight back. The man had done all he could. It just wasn´t enough.  
_

_Too bad for him.  
_

_Siegfried couldn´t suppress the smirk any longer. Too bad for _them

_Too bad for the twenty armored knights that he wielded the most powerful weapon in the world. Too bad for them that he needed to feed it with their souls.  
_

_The boy couldn´t help admiring his sword._ _Soul Edge´s power was certainly something to behold_._ The male blade effortlessly tore through steel, flesh and bone alike. He no longer found himself locked in fierce battles; now he just had to swing his sword, and his enemies would fall apart. It had only taken him five minutes to annihilate the small detachment.  
_

_Siegfried´s smirk turned into a wicked smile. He victoriously lifted the blade in the air, drops of blood sliding from it to the ground. With this sword, he had become the greatest swordsman in the Holy Roman Empire. With Soul Edge, he would find the murderer of his father.  
_

_His wide smile turned for naught when the blade suddenly opened it´s only eye. His heart froze, as the pulsing orb locked gazes with him. Unable to bear the dreadful sight, Siegfried looked away.  
_

_Siegfried gritted his teeth. He hated when it did that. "What is it?."  
_

"_**More souls."  
**_

"_More souls?!." The boy snapped. "I fed you an entire detachment!."  
_

"_**More souls."** It insisted.  
_

"_How many?." He asked curtly.  
_

"_**More."  
**_

_Siegfried walked among the carcasses, heading back to the trees from where he had ambushed the unsuspecting soldiers. _More_, he thought_, always more_. He was begining to think that the sword´s hunger was _unsatiable.

"_You said that you would find my father´s murderer."  
_

"_**I will. But I need to recover my strengths first."  
**_

"It´s taking too long!." _The boy snapped again, his red eyes flaring. _

"_**Is it?."** It´s tone remained calm.** "There are **_**ways_ to speed the process, you know."  
_**

_The german stopped dead in his tracks. It wasn´t the first time the blade suggested that. He turned around, his eyes falling on the scattered bodies over the grass. One thing was to defeat trained knights. Another completely different was to slaughter helpless villagers.  
_

"_Forget it." He spat.  
_

"_**Just saying."**_

_The boy frowned. This thing was up to no good. Though it didn´t take a genius to realize the evil nature of the blade, Siegfried knew that he still needed it for his purposes. Once it located the murderer and dealt with him, he would no longer have any use of it. _

Really?...

_Evil or not, only a fool would disregard the power it offered. His eyes widened, a hint of smile threatening to show in his face. So what that he had to feed it with the souls of soldiers and knights?!. They probably deserved it anyways. In the end, what could possibly be the difference between dying in battle and having your soul eaten by a sword?. None at all. _

_Besides, if that was the price for the power he now held in his hands, he would be more than glad to pay it.  
_

Who knows?...,_ Siegfried mused. He might end keeping it for himself, after all.  
_

"_I do intend to make you keep your word, _sword_."  
_

"_**I will honor my part of the covenant, Schtauffen." **The voice reassured.** "As long as you honor yours."  
**_

His _word. His gaze fell over the twenty bodies hacked around him. Keeping his word seemed easier every time.  
_

_Perhaps he should try fifty next time.  
_

"_Of course."  
_

_Dissapearing into the forest again and covered by the shadows of the trees, Siegfried walked close to the roads, in expectation. It wouldn´t be long before he ran into another armed detachment. The faster he sated the hunger of the blade, the faster his father would be finally avenged._

His eyes opened, and he found himself surrounded by darkness. The young man struggled to get on his feet, but his body ached too much. After a couple a tries, his legs finally give in and he staggered over the rocky floor. It hurted. The fall had hurt and his whole being resented it.

Pain. Pain of any sort. Something he hadn´t felt in a long time.

Siegfried slightly groaned. The air around him was hot and humid, and it reeked of confinement. Removing a strand of hair fom his face, a flicker and a glimpse of light called his attention. Too weak to move, the young man barely managed to crawl towards the source, the pale light squeezed by the door. He put his good hand against it. The air around him may be hot, but the heavy iron door was very cold to the touch. There was no doubt of it now. Wherever he was, he had been locked away.

Even in the dark he had notice the grotesque shape of his right arm, now revealed before the dim light. The scaled, spiked arm. The horrid claw that passed for his hand. Though the blade had said that it would grant him power to crush his enemies, it never stated how.

The_ How_, the _Where _and the _When_ didn´t mattered. He was alone now. Alone with his thoughts. With his face against the hard stone floor, he readied himself for what was to come.

_Father...  
_

Siegfried shook with guilt. He knew that the last thing his father had seen was his sword flashing towards him.

It was the guilt what drove him insane in the first place. Unable to deal with the obvious truth, his frail mind plunged deeper and deeper into madness. To ease the guilt that devoured him, he would unleash a terrible evil upon the land.

He paid attention to it´s offer, lured by it´s promises of revenge and restitution. In his twisted logic, it seemed fair to right his wrongs with more wrongs.

_Unparelleled_ wrongs.

As the sword replenished it´s former strength, his soul continued to shrink. Incited by bloodlust and corrupted to the core by the intoxicating power, it didn´t took long for him to turn against those he had tried to save. With time, the same villages he tried to spare from the blade were also devoured by it´s hunger. Soldiers, farmers, women, children. It wasn´t gold what the monstrous thief was after. To his undiscerning eyes, everybody had something to _colaborate _with

The demon he held in his hands continued to whisper in his mind. Soon, the insidious, caustic voice became the only thing he would, _could_ listen. He gave into it´s demands, his mind and soul too weak to fight back. Soul Edge did not only want a wielder to be fed, but also a puppet to entertain it´s madness.

The orgy of fire and blood knew no end. Like a wraith, the only trail the errant knight left behind were the corpses in it´s wake. Hundreds of souls would be sacrificed to the blade. A thousand wrongs to right one.

Now, with his scarce lucidity regained, Siegfried became tormented by the live recollections of his sins and the guilt. Clutching his head with his hands, he pleaded to the terrible images to stop, to no avail. Confined in the darkness, there would be no respite for him; the memories of the atrocities he had commited would burn forever in his mind...

Of the father he had slain. Of the insane quest that claimed countless souls...

Including his own.

To be continued...

A/N: Hmmmmm... Let´s see... The Lizardmen constitutes the usual Soul Calibur cannon fodder, and you all probably guessed who´s the last character to be introduced in this fic, so nothing of relevance. Ah, right. Siegfried is quite fucked up here, so it may come as a dissapointment to those who were expecting to see him in the knight-in-shining-armor role he usually plays in most fics. I´m not saying he won´t be, but not as much though. You might notice that he keeps the claw here, and that´s because it couldn´t find a good reason of why he shouldn´t be without it. I´ve always thought it said a lot about the character, but that´s just me shrugs.

True, true. I_ will_ rewrite chapter 1 and fix chapter 2 (again). Someday.

Now let´s get to the reviewers:

Jays Arravan:_ "Out of curiosity, will you pair Sophitia and Siegfried together? Just wanna know."  
_

Ohhh, character pairings. Tread lightly here. There might be some hints at romance, but I wouldn´t want to indulge too much on that. It´s not what I really have in mind here, and I suck at writing it anyways.

IGAF:_ "Is Cassandra still alive or did Sophitia kill her?."  
_

Yup. No Cassie here.

_"Are any of the exclusive Characters (Link/Spawn/Heihachi) going to make an appearance?."_

No way. No console characters here.

_"And where did you come up with such a crazy idea?."_

Check out my abandoned Eva fic **_"Those Eyes"_** for an idea. Other than the abysmal character differences between Sophitia and Gendo Ikari, it features basically the same kind of villain.

LPP: _"Even though it deviates from my prediction of the series' future..."  
_

Because it´s not. This is not a continuation of Soul Calibur 2. Actually, I don´t think I mentioned it before, so here it goes: This fic takes place during the ´reign of terror´ back in SC, but way before Nightmare gets his shit ruined by Kilik and Xianghua; so everybody here is five years younger than they were in SC2.

_"A note specifically to the author, these short sentences work to convey suspense, but when used to much they convey simplicity. No offense, but just remember that."_

Sure, non taken. You see, the short sentences are a problem because I am a simple writer. I can write you the whole script of a chapter in fifteen minutes, but it will take me a whole month to write a simple scene. While most writers overdescribe everything, I have problems putting two words together.

And for all those who cared enough to review: You guys rule. I wouldn´t be able to update this fast (fast?) without your comments. Thanks.

I would leave my mail address here, but no one´s going to mail me, so...

Happy holidays and until next time!.


	6. Stench

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc of Soul Calibur belongs to Namco. They´re not mine and I make no claim to them.

As the lightning falls by YF-21

"" denotes speech.

_Denotes emphasis/flashback/thoughts._

Chapter 6

_The woman in red moved like a blur onboard the galleon´s deck, jumping, rolling, running as she evaded attack after attack from her opponent. In a complete display of skill, the Demon huntress read and parried the assaults, circled her rival and slashed at every opportunity – it wasn´t a fair fight; the pirate was already injured and handicapped, and it was clear that he couldn´t keep up the pace of the lithe ninja. She knew this, of course. Like a vulture waiting for its prey to drop dead, all she needed to do was to win time before the man collapsed. Takind advantage of her foe´s mistakes, she managed to slash at his legs, his arms and his chest – these were mere shallow cuts, though, but she couldn´t risk doing more than that. The weapon the pirate wielded was far more than lethal._

_At last she saw her chance; the pirate slashed forward and missed, and the ninja gracefully leapt over his head and landed behind him. Unsheathing her beloved Rekki-maru, the huntress dug the spiritual blade in the spaniard´s back, twisting the hilt to widen the wound. She pulled the ninja-to out, and rolled over the floor as the pirate turned around and slashed at her previous position, to no effect. It was for a moment that the time seemed to stand still when she met his eyes, red like blazing coals, burning with the insanity behind them. He came to her again, and the huntress readied herself, in vain. The pirate just managed to walk three steps before he fell flat on his face. She noticed the expression on his face. He had looked as if betrayed. _

_It was over. A triumphant Taki stood over the pirate´s body, and proceded to sheathe her blade. Not far from the corpse lyed another body, the body of the girl that had dared to stand up to the dreaded spaniard. The blonde girl wasn´t skilled or experimented enough, yet she fought with courage and all her heart – for all it was worth. It was by sheer luck that she managed to shatter one of the pirate´s sword, only to be swept away in the rain of shards that followed. She fell over the wooden floor and remained there._

So young...

_Taki was not one to let someone die – specially if she could do something about it – but she figured out that it was hopeless by now – the girl´s injuries were massive, and she was literally lying in a pool of her own blood._ How strange, _she thought. The pirate had withstood the same explosion, yet she could tell that he was actually_ invigorated _by it.  
Nevertheless, her mind was already made up. The least thing she could for the brave girl was to make sure that her sacrifice hadn´t been in vain._

_**"Have you come to claim me?."**_

_The voice suddenly crawled inside her mind, but it didn´t surprise her. Taki was already waiting for it to manifest, as she had noticed the aura emanating from the cursed sword enveloping the ship´s deck ever since its twin exploded. It was awake now._

_She chose to ignore it, as she closed her dark eyes and focused her attention for the sealing spell. To channel the energy of her soul was something that required all of her concentration, and she would not waste more time in listening to any petty thing it had to say._

"_**I see."** It sounded dissapointed enough.** "Why have you come then?."**_

_Taki felt her body brimming with energy. The spell was ready. Once she blasted the remaining wretched thing to oblivion, she would be able to return home and put this fruitless trip behind her. She finally opened her eyes and called out, "Demon Begone!"_

_Her own aura spreaded and overwhelmed the Infernal Artifact´s one, and kanji and other symbols manifested in the distance between her and the sword – a blinding light and a deafening sound followed. Smoke and fog filled the air of the galleon. Taki smirked under her mask, as she couldn´t detect its presence anymore. The task was complete. "Demon slain, the deed is done."_

"_**Are you done?."** _

_The mocking tone hit her moments after she proclaimed her victory. The seething, evil aura covered the vessel with a shroud again, and she was left dumbfounded. The smoke dissipated and she was able to see the destruction behind. The pirate´s corpse was gone and so was part of the deck, as the exorcism spell left a hole in the wooden floor. What called her immediate attention was the fleshy broadsword floating unharmed in the air. _Impossible!_, she desperately thought, trying to cope with what her eyes were seeing. _It kills most demons!.

_The voice hit her again, sneering this time. **"I am coveted by Gods - and you thought that I would fall for such a simple incantation?. I expected better from you, huntress."**_

_"Silence!." Taki bellowed, preparing herself to cast the spell again. She needed to concentrate again – to do it well this time. The huntress was nearly spent from the battle and the first casting, yet she continued with her efforts. She had never failed in her task before, and she wouldn´t start now._

"_**Why do you insist?. You don´t have the power to banish me." **_

_She ignored the voice again. Taki wouldn´t let it break her concentrationSoon, she would be ready again, and would get rid of it this time._

"_**Neither did she, and she was closer than you."**_

_The ninja´s brow furrowed. Her energy was scattered and she needed to concentrate harder. _Just a little more...

"_**It gets worse every time, right," **It almost sounded casual. **"Slaying demons..."**_

It´s true.

_Taki opened her eyes and blinked. The voice was right. Killing demons never got any easier, and now that her Rekki-maru was losing its edge, it just kept getting harder and harder. In fact, she recalled, the situation got so bad that she had to leave Japan to look for – "You," She said gruffly. "You talk too much."_

"_**I only talk of what I see, and I see that at your current state, you pose no threat to me - but please, if you wish to exert in futility, feel free to try."**_

_The huntress allowed herself to sigh. Her concentration was already broken, and she deemed it pointless to try again."You presume much, too."_

"_**But then again, I only presume of what I see."**_

_Taki quirked an eyebrow. That almost came as a joke to her. "Really?." She folded her arms under her chest, and replied sardonically. "And what do you see, all-knowing one?."_

_**"I see more than others, because I know where to look."**_

_"That´s not even an answer."_

"_**Maybe it is, maybe it´s not."**It said dismissively.** "But that´s hardly the point of this, isn´t it?. You killed my wielder – aren´t you supposed to claim me?."**_

"_And why I would do that?."_

"_**Because you have a need of me, of course. Isn´t that why you´ve come before me?."**_

_An image of the pirate ran through her mind. The spaniard held terrifying power in his hands, yet it was him the first to fall before the blades´s might. She had no doubt that the man twisted like a puppet to their whim, as the entire ship reeked with their corruption – was this the power she had been looking for all along?. "It´s true. I needed more power to protect my own, and that´s why I came here - but now that I´ve witnessed your doing, I´ve changed my mind. You are not what I seek."_

_**"How come? – I´m an expression of power itself. Wasn´t power what you were looking for?."**_

_"I know, but the power you offer it´s not the power I need." Taki turned her back on it, and admitted to herself. "It was folly of me to come here expecting otherwise."_

_"_**_Nonsense. Power_ is _Power. You can translate power into anything. Mortals suffer and die from lack of it – it´s the only thing that matters."_**

_"Perhaps for the unadverted victims you ensnare, but not for me. I have no use for power that I can´t control, or for power that controls me."_

_"**And you don´t have use of the power you control either." **It shot back."**It´s a dead-end."**_

_The realization hit her – the answer to the dilemma was with her all along. She closed her eyes and a faint smile appeared in the corners of her lips. It had failed, and they both knew it. Taki looked past her shoulder and said, "Then I guess I´ll have to look for power within me. I have wasted too much time to realize the obvious."_

_The ninja begun to walk away from the demonic sword – no, she decided, from the demon shaped as a sword. Her journey wasn´t the complete failure she previously thought. To deal with the demons that plagued her lands, Taki would have to persevere and improve – it had taken her a long trip to learn that all the power she needed lied in herself. It wasn´t entirely satisfying, but it was something at least._

_Her blood ran cold when she heard the voice chuckle**. "I´ve offered this power to many, but there were very few prejudiced enough to reject it."** She wasn´t going to stop to determine whether it was a back-handed compliment or not, but it continued. **"You are wise beyond your age, young huntress. Your master has taught you well. I find it a pity that you have to return home empty-handed."**_

_"..."_

_"**But it doesn´t have to be that way. Do you see the sentinel bleeding on the floor?."**_

_Taki looked at the mangled girl lying at her feet. Her fair hair hid the expression of her face and her body was full of cuts and wounds. Color drained from her skin, her shirt and skirt soaked in tortuous red. Is she finally?..._

_"**No, but it won´t take long for that." **The voice replied, and continued. **"Now, can you imagine why a girl – a girl as green as her would come to try and shatter me?."**_

_"..."_

_"**Because she was forced to, of course. The callous god she worships has deemed my destruction and I´ve stalked by centuries by his martyrs. It is a thankless job, and only certain death awaits to those chosen. Fail, and have your soul eaten. Succeed, and die in a rain of unholy shrapnel – Refuse to both, and incur in divine wrath."**_

_Taki was unimpressed with the tale. Some had it worse back in Japan. "And what does it have to do with me?."_

_"**Her body is torn, yet she has found the strength to breathe again." **It continued.** "Her strength, though, doesn´t come from her will, her hopes or the love to her own – but from something more tangible than that."**_

_The huntress noticed the forceful, erratic breathing of the maiden; yet it wasn´t that what called her attention, but the faint shining that caught her eyes._ This glow... It´s!- _The girl´s body was incased in pale bright, light erupting from her wounds. It was as Taki suspected then. Despite the massive injuries, both pirate and girl were invigorized by the explosion. How ironic that the same shards that almost killed them were the ones that kept them alive._

_"**I told you I was an expression of power itself – these shards that glitter are also an extent of myself. Take them. Fuse them with your spiritual blade. They might prove to be a solution to your plight, without having to lose your sanity or soul over it."**_

_At this, Taki became very suspicious. "Why do you care?."_

_**"I don´t, but I consider that they are far too precious to be wasted in a pitiful mongrel like her."**_

_The ninja grinned and said sardonically, "How generous of you."_

_Humouring her, the voice replied, **"Am I not always?."** Then, it returned to a severe tone. **"Now take her, and bother me no more."**_

_Taki kneeled and lifted the light girl in her arms. If she made haste, the girl might still live. As for it was offered, she wouldn´t let the insidious voice cloud her mind. The decision would be hers, and hers alone._

_Before departing, the ninja turned around and faced the unholy blade for the last time. "I won´t stop hunting you.", she warned._

_"**I know. Farewell."**_

_The huntress suddenly felt a surge of energy coming from the sword and instinctively closed her eyes before the flash of light hit them. When she opened them again, the evil presence was nowhere to be felt, and so was the seething aura that covered the ship with it._

_It was gone. The Infernal Artifact had banished._

_Hours later, Taki would manage to see the tower of light rising from the spanish harbor. However, with the glittering shards in her hands, she found out that she couldn´t bring herself to care._

The huntress leapt over the imposing bush and resumed her quick pace again. Taki had been running for the last two hours, but she wasn´t one to tire easily. For one as nimble as her, running came as a natural choice; but she already had considered stealing a horse in the next village, however, she was sure it would be awhile before she ran into one.

It had been three weeks since she had finally found Master Hachibei, and three weeks had passed since she escaped Japan. She still had to make her way deeper into the mainland, so to make sure she discouraged her pursuers. Still, it was easier said than done, as her chasers were no other than her own kin, the Fuu-Ma ninja clan.

_"In Mekki-maru there is sealed a fearful power. Never let Toki have the ninja-to. You are the only one that I could entrust..." _

Hachibei´s words still burned in her mind. In her back was sheated a terrible power. Taki had been witness to it when brute Geki took the corrupted spiritual blade from her hands, only to have his arm blown off by the sudden release of its unholy strength. No man could have Mekki-maru, and she had to make sure it was destroyed. Rumors had arrived to Japan by then, rumors of a dark knight and his demonic blade and the massacres that were taking place in the west. Taki narrowed her eyes. She would find this ´Azure Nightmare´ and if it turned out to be he was wielding the same cursed weapon that fooled her, she would slit his throat. Hopefully, if she pitted Mekki-maru against the dreaded Soul Edge, they would nullify and destroy each other. Only then she would finally atone for her foolishness.

The sun begun to set in the horizon over the hills and Taki spent the rest of the afternoon reminicing about the fateful time when she betrayed herself – and what it might still cost her.

* * *

It was sunny day on the field, and the prairie was brimming with life. The young girl made it to the top of the hill, and fell under the comfy grass, a wide smile in her face. Most girls her age would have fun smelling flowers and listening to the songs of the birds; however, for this particular child, the fun merely started there. Her connections to nature ran deeper than those girls her same age, and she was able to perceive those things ordinary people couldn´t. For this child was a gifted one. This girl could listen to the sounds of the world. The priestess would read the winds as she had been taught to, and the gusts would carry soft murmurs of distant cities, whispers of recondite places and fragances of exotic lands. Finding it a most wonderful experience, every morning the child would usually lay on the grass and wait until the winds came with the news. Wierdly enough, the girl thought, the winds didn´t come the previous day before yesterday, and neither came that day. Her brown eyes blinked with expectative – would they come this day?. There was only one way to know, and she was going to wait on the flowery field until they decided to blow. 

When they finally did, though, she could already tell that there was something odd about it, but that didn´t stop her from standing up and trying to read it. Fearful thoughts filled her mind, as she noticed that the wind was acting strangely this day, running forcefully through her body. Finally, when she found out what it was carrying this time, she desperately felt the urge of running away. However, there was little she could do about when the tainted winds turned on her and impregnated her with the stench of evil.

The wind brought screams at her ears and her nose was filled with the pungent smell of death and decay, her lungs burning with pain as the agony and suffering of dozens of people overwhelmed her senses. Tears freely fell from her eyes. Unable to understand the reasons of all that misery, the priestess could only hope to wait until the wind carried away the sensations, as it always did. It was until she saw the horrid eye in her mind and felt the void beneath that she let herself go and screamed of terror. The girl fell over the grass, drifting unto the safety of unconsciousness.

Even then, the child´s ignorance proved to be a bliss. Young Talim couldn´t have possibly known that the evil she had felt paled before the evil she was about to know.

* * *

A/N: Well, after five months of procrastination I present you chapter six. I´m happy to announce that I´m finally done with the character introductions, and that means that you won´t be reading any boring flashback for awhile. The only relevant note here is that Mekki-maru actually drove Toki nuts before Taki even left Japan looking for SE the first time, and not after. _Oh, well..._

Ah, Ivy and Sophie shows up again next. Thanks to those who cared enough to review! You guys are the best!.

Until next time.


	7. Anxiety

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc of Soul Calibur belongs to Namco. They´re not mine and I make no claim to them.

As the lightning falls by YF-21

"" denotes speech.

_Denotes emphasis/flashback/thoughts._

Chapter 7

The girl stood on the clearing of the forest, dark storm clouds hanging over her head. It would snow again, soon. As day turned into night, the seasons changed, and soon winter made its presence known. The first snowfalls didn´t go unnoticed and Sophitia had briefly wondered if they would slow her down. Her shirt and skirt offered poor resistance against the hostile weather, but her body didn´t seem to notice the cold. She now knew better than this, though. The pain, the exhaustation and the thirst were there – she just couldn´t feel them anymore. The monster in her hands would not be stopped by mortal weaknesses.

When Sophitia made a pact with Soul Edge, she had agreed to take care of its enemies – and apparently, she had to take care of its needs too. Dissapointed with her lack of commitment, the unholy blade had withdrawn its strength, and the lost sensations became alive again. It was only in the nick of time that she was spared. Still feeling the phantom fingers caressing her throat, the infernal artifact had made its point quite clear.

And so, Sophitia walked for days to no end. Crossing forests and fording rivers, she aimlessly wandered from a place to another. The memories that weighted her down began to fade, as she couldn´t come to think of anything while she walked. She clinged to these recollections for dear life. Sophitia knew that if she lost purpose, the errant march would finally drive her insane.

Sophitia´s eyes were set on the horizon. The mountains ahead seemed closer every day, and there were still some patches of forest between them and her. Vague questions stormed her mind, but she feared to ask. Other than the sound of the wind, the silence was ominous and foreboding. It had been like this since that day. She no longer heared her own footsteps or heartbeats – and if she did, she couldn´t pay attention to them anymore. Slowly, it was consuming her.

The maiden stared at the blade intently. It had slain her loved ones, and if she didn´t submit to its will, it would get rid of her too. She had no words for how much she loathed it, but even then, Sophitia was only human, and the solitude was getting to her. For the sake of her remaining sanity, she parted her lips and came with something she hadn´t dared to before.

"Are you there?" She asked, her voice weak and raspy.

Silence.

"I know you can hear me," Sophitia insisted. "talk to me."

There was no response. She tried asking again and again. She even tried shaking it, but nothing came out of the sword. Finally, red eyes flared. _"Talk!."_

The voice sneered. **"What do you want?"**

Sophitia sighed. It was good to hear another voice, even if it was the sword´s one. "Where am I?"

"**Somewhere."** Came the non-answer.

"Where?"

"**Does it matter?"**

"Yes."

The voice asked her in a tone that could have passed for interest. **"Why?"**

"Because I want to know."

**"And why is that?"**

Sophitia sighed again. This was getting nowhere. "Because I do."

**"And what has that to do with me?"**

"Because..." Her eyes blinked, and her voice became full of anxiety. "Because you know, right?"

It almost chuckled. **"What makes you think I know where we are?"**

Suddenly, Sophitia skipped a beat. It felt like if a cold hand had reached and grasped her heart. The prospect of a pointless march and being lost was terrible enough. "Y-you don´t?"

**"I never said I didn´t."**

Momentarily, the girl felt somewhat relieved. At least the voice knew where they were, even it didn´t want to tell her.

**"I never said that I did, either."**

Sophitia stared at the blade dumbfoundly and then frowned. It was obvious that the voice was just playing with her.Anger began to sting in her chest, but she tried to maintain the composture. She swallowed hard and asked. "Do you know or not?"

"If I tell you, will you keep walking?" She calmed down. "Yes."

**"These regions have been named differently throughout the centuries."** The voice said. **"I can still recall what they were called last, though."**

Irritated, her eyes furrowed. "_Where?_"

**"Why do you care?"**

"Because I _do!_" She snapped. "_Where am I?_"

The audible smile. **"Somewhere."**

It was frustrating, and Sophitia gasped soundly. This was what she was looking for – a conversation to distract her weary mind, but she had had no intention for it to go the way it was going. It turned out that she was not only in the middle of nowhere, but that it was pointless to try to get anything out of the cretin voice, as it answered her questions with more questions and plain mockery. Tired and stressed, Sophitia lost what little patience she had left and gave into despair. Her shoulders slumped forward, and her arms begun to shake. Her free hand ran to her face and she fought hard to keep the tears from falling.

"**Why are you mad? – I´m not lying to you."**

Grief turned into anger and Sophitia felt something inside her snap. Digging her nails in the blade´s hilt, her face contorted horribly. "I´ve had enough of you! _Stop mocking me!_"

The voice remained unaffected, yet slightly surprised. **"Am I mocking you?"**

"STOP IT!"

Soul Edge landed and skided on the soft snow, not far from its wielder. If it was its intention to make her burst, it had done it.

The girl´s mind was in a state of turmoil. Anger had made her thrash wildly, and the small satisfaction she got from throwing the blasted sword away was lost the moment she thought of the possible consequences. She was practically bound to the infernal artifact´s will, and Sophitia knew it would only take that much to let it remind her of that. A short silence set in where she tried to pull herself together. With her arms still shaking, the maiden turned her head back over her shoulder and tried to offer an explanation. "You..." She had lost her voice. "You wouldn´t..."

"**But it is true."** It interrupted her.** "A pawn doesn´t need to know. It just does what it´s told to."**

Her fists clenched, an angry thought running through her mind. She bit her lip and kept it for herself. Another brief silence set in, and Sophitia stopped trembling. With her blood-shot eyes on the horizon, she tried something else. "The mountains. Do you want me to cross them?"

It cut her off. **"What do you really want, Alexandra?"**

She pursed her lips. "I want to know where I am."

"**I thought that you just wanted to talk."** It sounded somewhat amused.** "Are we not talking?" **

Defeated, she ignored the mocking voice. Sophitia looked around her and decided to rest against the trunk of tree. It would be pitch black in moments. There was no moon in the sky, and she wouldn´t be able to walk in the darkness. Besides, the girl found that she was exhausted. Her body needed no respite, yet her mind begged for a pause. It was better to let it wait until morning.

"**What are you doing?" **

"I´m tired."

"**How come? – you´ve done nothing yet."**

"I´m tired of you." She said gruffly.

"**I see." **The voice replied sardonically. **"Perhaps we should _talk_ about it."**

It was getting darker, and Sophitia barely managed to notice the shape of the infernal artifact on the snow. She closed her eyes and listened to the whistling of the freezing wind. Soul Edge´s unholy strength was protecting her, so she wasn´t cold at all. She found it ironic that she wasn´t warm, either.

"**Why would you want to talk to me?"**

Actually, she had made herself that same question time and time again the previous days and it never surprised her that she never found answer to it. "I don´t know."

**"What would you like to talk about?"** It offered.

She opened her eyes and they became full of darkness. "Why did you kill them?"

**"I already answered that."**

"You didn´t. You just said that that was what you do. That´s not an answer."

"**They are dead because I could kill them – because I had the power to. That should suffice."**

It wasn´t enough for her. "Did you hate them?."

**"I do not hate the mortals."** It stated as a matter-of-factly. **"Actually, they prove quite useful to me."**

"Did you?" She repeated.

**"Do you need to hate to kill?"**

Sophitia blinked. She had been forced to defend herself in the past, but she had never come to kill somebody – or that was what she liked to think. Killing a man was a burden that she hoped to never carry, yet she rarely thought of the fates of those who had stood in her way.

If something happened to them because of her, would it be her fault?

She shook her head. No, it wouldn´t. It had been her or them. Whatever happened to those men only concerned them and their gods.

The audible smile. **"Did you hate _them?_"**

"I..." She hesitated, "I don´t know."

Silence.

**"Neither did I."**

Sophitia closed her eyes and sighed. She didn´t know whether the voice had answered hers or its own question altogether – or answered at all.She guessed it didn´t matter anymore.

"Do you hate me?"

**"Do you think I hate you?"**

A faint smile formed at her lips. "I _do_ hate you."

**"That´s comprehensible."**

Her tone became bitter. "I will never forgive you."

**"That is as irrelevant, too."**

Images ran through her mind, and her eyes narrowed. "They weren´t yours to kill."

**"As they were _yours_ to protect, I assume?"**

A muffled cry broke at the girl´s throat and her hands ran to her face, again. Pulling her legs to her chest, Sophitia shook with guilt and cursed her own impotence. It was her own weakness what had allowed that thing to take them. If she only had been stronger, or more skilled or made the right choices, no harm would have ever come to them.

Moments passed, and it was only until she heard the voice again that she stopped shaking. Her eyes widened with the words. Pondering over what was said, she realized that it was right. Nothing was to be gained from wailing in the past.

With her composture regained, she looked at the infernal artifact in the snow. "What do you want?"

"**You already know."** The voice replied.** "Do you still need something from me, right?"**

"Yes."

"**Good. Now keep walking."**

Sophitia stood up from the floor and picked up the sword from the snow. She walked into the darkness, her mind filled with the same questions of before. The girl shushed her doubts and held the only thing she knew for certain. Whatever she would do, she would do it them.

"_**If you still have time to grieve, ask yourself why you are alive."**_

It was something she had been telling herself for days, yet strangely enough, she found it encouraging when coming from someone else. She had realized that the voice just said what she wanted to hear but she couldn´t bring herself to object it. However, if Sophitia had really known what Soul Edge had meant by that, she may have not been able to continue.

* * *

"I hope," The woman said between sips. "that you haven´t brought me here just for tea."

High Priest Kumpaetku fought a smile. He couldn´t say that he wasn´t impressed with the visitor. He had been told that Countess Valentine was looking for Soul Edge, yet that never hit him as strange. Many european houses had some sort of interest in the infernal artifact, yet unlike those, he knew that the Countess was actually looking for the sword by herself. Kumpaetku was also already told of the Valentine´s fall from grace in the English nobility. Fygul Cestemus had their eyes and ears spreaded throughout the continent, after all.

What called his attention is that he had imagined someone completely different in mind. Nobody had told him that the Countess was this imposing, or beautiful.

Isabella Valentine rested against the back of her chair, holding a cup of tea in her lap. She was definitively a tall woman – slightly taller than him, but that just added to her natural charms. Her short hair was silver, and her pale alabaster skin was contrasted by cold blue eyes. Dressed with a simple traveller cloak, it didn´t do much to emphasize on her other rather generous attributes and the High Priest couldn´t but wonder what lied beneath those layers of cloth. His eyes urged him to wander through her body – and they would have, if it wasn´t for the piercing stare that locked his gaze with hers.

"I´m aware of the tragedy that befell your house, Countess." Kumpaetku started. "Soul Edge´s siren call has claimed as many lives as-"

"Call me _Ivy_, priest." She cut him off abruptly . "And I would prefer you save your condolences for someone else. I do not intend to follow my father´s obsession, if that is what worries you. I merely seek to put an end to that evil once and for all, and I thought you could nudge me in the right direction."

"Very well, ´Ivy´. Know this." Kumpaetku´s eyebrows quirked. "We priests of Fygul Cestemus worship Palgaea, The Executioner and in return He has shown us the truth. All that lives will die and all things will be broken. This is His law." He explained. "It is our belief that all that exists is condemned since conception and is only a matter of time before He passes sentence. Beyond destruction, lies rebirth – and it is only with this rebirth that we condemned can trascend."

Ivy sipped at her tea calmly. Judging from the monsters painted on the walls and the misshapen statues on the galleries and the corridors she had to cross to get to the High priest´s chamber, she clearly had an idea of what the cult´s bizarre concepts of ´rebirth´ and ´trascendency´ were all about. Something involving two-legged lizards, apparently. Of course, she kept all commentaries to herself. The Countess merely nodded, feigning as much interest as she could. She hoped it wasn´t too obvious. It would be too soon to begin upsetting her host.

"Yet," Kumpaetku continued. "There´s a creature that defies His law – a monster that refuses to die. An instrument of death, bathed in the blood of thousands – not driven by a mortal hand, but its very will to consume. This monster studies the souls of men and adjust itself to them, gradually insinuating itself to its victims; offering splendors to the ambitious, gain to the covetous and a false sense of piety for the pious – power to the weak. Power for those who need it. Power for a price – it´s the ambition´s cost."

"Sounds like the devil." She commented.

"It _is_ a devil." He reassured her. "A devil of many names. The Key to Immortality, the Panacea, the Philosopher´s stone, among others. Soul Edge have been called this and more, named by those unaware of its true nature."

"And I suppose you have been fighting this monster for long now, am I correct?"

"Indeed, for quite some time, yes." The priest sipped at his own cup of tea. "By our Lord´s will, Fygul Cestemus have been chasing this abomination across the whole continent – with limited success, unfortunately. More times than not, our search parties would end empty-handed and without the slightest trace to follow. It was like the creature vanished from our sight, moving from one place to another. Sometimes, we wouldn´t hear from it in years. Imagine our surprise when we heard that the famed Hero´s sword was in auction, twenty years ago..."

She was unimpressed. "I already know about the deal between the Adams and Vercci."

"That´s an interesting subject, isn´t it? – why Soul Edge possessed de Leon instead of Adams? Wasn´t the blade supposed to be dormant at the time? How did it get to chose who to possess? Why wait all those years at the harbor?" The elderly wondered about this and more. "For one so evasive, it was almost like it wanted to be found. Don´t you agree, Ivy?"

Actually, she didn´t. She had come a long from Greece for answers, and all she was receiving was nothing more than small talk and uncertainities. She was running out of patience and she would let the priest know. "The point, Kumpaetku," Ivy cut him off again, rather impatiently this time. "I´m not seeing one."

"Have you heard of the ´Azure Nightmare´?"

"Who hasn´t?"

The priest rose his eyebrows. "What do you think of it?"

"The pretenses of the German Princes are tearing the peasantry apart." She told him. "The church will only answer to the highest bidder, so the rightful succession to the throne will have to wait. I hope it´s done before the region bleeds itself to death."

The elder drank of his cup. "So I take you don´t believe in the rumors."

"This is a world of death where we live, priest. I´ve heard the same stories since I was a child. Am I supposed to believe that all those towns fell to a single murderer?"

"_Murderer_ scarcely begins to describe him." Kumpaetku dropped the playfullness in his voice. "He has fed hundreds to the blade, all by himself. I thought that someone like you wouldn´t remain skeptical before the evidence."

Ivy´s brow furrowed. She knew what the elderly was referring to. "The survivors of the village referred to the attacker as a girl, not a dark knight."

"Yes, a girl – a girl wielding a monstrous sword." The High priest continued. "The villagers knew her – a neighbour to them. They even spoke of when she left the town under pretense of a holy task, years ago."

Blue eyes blinked. "I had understood that the Sentinels of Hephaestus were supposed to hunt Soul Edge, not consort with it."

"So did I. It makes no sense, doesn´t it? – but who are we to discuss what they saw?"

The elder had a point. It was useless to question the veracity of the survivors. "Do you know where she is?"

"That´s another problem." Kumpaetku answered. "Months ago, we believed we had a pattern – actually, we got to confirm it. The Azure Nightmare was heading east. Where, we can´t tell - we don´t think he even knew. Now, for all we know," he concluded con regret. "Soul Edge could have taken another direction."

So it was a lie. Ivy drank at her cup and stared at the priest intensely. Fygul Cestemus didn´t have the slightest idea of where Soul Edge was.

A brief silence set in. If Ivy was upset about the news, Kumpaetku couldn´t tell. Actually, there was very little he could tell about her. The Countess masked her every emotion and he was finding the whole conversation somewhat unsettling. He would talk and she would just stare at him with those cold eyes of hers. Analyzing, calculating.

Again, this just added to her charms.

"You said you confirmed a pattern," She finally asked. "how?"

"We figured it out on our own." A smile appeared at the corners of the elderly´s lips. "You see, we have many ways to make Siegfried Schtauffen talk. The thing is, he has nothing interesting to say."

The Countess raised an eyebrow. "_Who?_"

"Siegfried Schtauffen." He repeated , and proceded to drink of his cup. When asked again, he replied. "Why, I thought you had heard of the Azure Nightmare."

Ivy´s eyes widened. "He´s here? – The Azure Nightmare _is here_?"

Kumpaetku smirked. "Would you like to meet him?"

A/N: It´s chapter 7 – and it´s _almost_ like something is happening! For all those who think that the story is slow-paced, well, it actually _is_ slow-paced but I assure you that it will get somewhere and there will be lots of asskicking when we get there.

I didn´t know there were so many Astaroth fans out there. Yes, Asty gets to be cannon-fodder in most fics out there and he gets very little credit.

I´d like to thank to all those who cared enough to review – you don´t know how much it means to me. You guys rock!

Until next time!


	8. Serpent

DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc of Soul Calibur belongs to Namco. They are not mine, and I make no claim to them.

As the lightning falls By YF-21

"" denotes speech

_denotes emphasis/thoughts/flashback_

Chapter 8

_Johann shifted his back against the field. There were so many stars in the sky that he couldn´t get his eyes from them. They__were pretty things, sparkling above his head, and whenever he felt like it he would watch them until they vanished with t__he day. He supposed he had nothing better to do, too. It was his turn as a sentry, and his duty consisted in watching over the__camp where he was staying for the night. It wasn´t but a couple of weeks since he had joined a small detachment__of guards that moved from one town to another. The pay wasn´t very good - nor was the food, but he thought that it would have __to do until he could find something better. The man sighed. If nothing happened, he could always go back to the old farm. __He would need to apologize to his father for leaving first, though._

_Judging from the fading starlight, dawn was coming. It was just a matter of time before the captain woke up, so he had better give __the impression that he was doing something. Johann now sat on the grass and set his eyes on the woods, finding that it was __very easy to lose sight in the wall of leaves and branches. He let out a mighty yawn. The wind was singing a lullaby in his __ears, and he fought the urge to close his eyes and drift away._

_The worst thing about sentry duty wasn´t staying up all night long, but the terrible boredom that came with it. It had been a__most uneventful night, like the night before, and the night before that. He was supposed to watch the camp, but guard it__against whom? Who would be as stupid enough to attack the place where forty men slept? Not the bandits lurking on this forest, __that was for sure. They were content enough in attacking the few defenseless caravans that dared to pass through the area. And let __them be. Johann obviously understood the captain´s decision to camp in the middle of the clearing. The best way to avoid any __kind of trouble was to let everyone know that they were already there._

_Regardless, he couldn´t help feeling somewhat nervous. In the immensity of the surrounding woods, it was very likely that __someone was watching him right now. It was kind of unsettling, but that had never stopped him from taking little naps here __and then, so it was better to ignore it. Johann´s eyes were still fixed at some point of the forest, watching the leaves rustle with the wind. If he __pretended that there was someone out there, he would at least have a reason to pay any kind of attention to his surroundings. __Someone had to be there anyways, somewhere._

There.

_Johann suddenly skipped a beat. Something moved among those trees. Had he caught one of the bandits spying on them?_

_And if he did, why would a bandit come out of the woods and into the clearing?_

_The dark figure stepped out from the shadows and walked into the open, heading towards the camp. It didn´t seem like it __cared much about being spotted. To be truthful, the figure was just standing there when Johann __located it by chance. It wasn´t also like it could actually hide - the massive blade it carried looked like too much of a __hindrance for that._

_His heart pounded against his chest. He stood up, and came to the realization that perhaps that wasn´t a bandit. Whoever it __was, it was coming, and fast._

_"Who goes there?!" He yelled in the figure´s direction._

_There was a response, but not the one he expected. Now the figure started to run towards him._

_"Stop!"_

_It didn´t. It just kept running. Johann didn´t manage to draw his own sword that he lost his head. Soon, the screams and __alarms of the other sentries woke the place up. Armed men rushed out of the tents, swords and shields on hands, ready to __repel the attacker._

_And they died, died, and died._

_Siegfried Schtauffen swinged the mighty Soul Edge, hacking a soldier´s torso and separating his upper and lower halves with __a single blow. The halves crudely hit the floor, joining an increasing collection of limbs and torn bodies scattered __over the grass and fallen tents. His face split into a jagged caricature of a grin, baring bestial teeth. Outnumbered, sure. __Outmatched, never. The accursed sword turned him into a predator - a lion in the jungle of battle._

_His mind burnt with memories of past indignations. How many times had he been forced to hide from such camps in the past?__Patrols and detachments of soldiers scoured through the eastern forests looking for the Schwartzwind, always in vain. __They wandered aimlessly in the woods during the day and camped in the clearings at night, ever confident in their numbers. __None would be as crazy to attack them when they were all together like that, and less a group as small as his._

_"Butcher!"_

_Another man came screaming from behind, axe in hand. Siegfried´s reflexes shot as he stepped aside and thrusted his monstrous __blade. The man barely had time to register pain as the giant slab of metal and flesh sunk into his chestplate, its tip __exiting through his back. The youth pulled out and the corpse, still convulsing, twitched over its own pool of blood. _

_The manic grin grew larger and larger. To hell with the Schwartzwind. Soul Edge was all he needed._

_Although Siegfried had long grown desensitized to killing, it took him some time to get used to the blade´s grotesque __kills. The infernal artifact gored his enemies as it tore through practically everything it managed to touch. __There was simply no defense against it. With every thrust, every slash, with every single stroke men fell before its __overwhelming strength. He merely had to direct the sword and let it reach out and devour its victims. _

_The youth easily fell more than twenty men before the rest could get over the shock and confusion and act. Now he was __effectively surrounded. Everywhere around him were men clad in iron. Swords, axes and lances. Shields, chainmails and helmets. __It was certainly bound to happen. Fighting alone against that many men, one could only remain on the offensive for so long. __Before he knew it, they made their move._

_"Running, eh?!" Siegfried yelled after them as he rested the blade of his sword on his shoulder. "Cowards!"_

_In their hurry some even discarded their weapons - swords and pieces of armor now littered the makeshift battlefield, much __like the scattered limbs and bodies everywhere. The boy enjoyed himself. He could hardly give credit to what his eyes were __seeing - all those men were running from him!_

_Euphoria rose inside him. He had become, indeed, the strongest swordsman of the Holy Roman Empire. Soul Edge __had rendered him invincible, invulnerable. Dizzy._

_Siegfried embedded the black blade on the floor and took a deep breath. He wasn´t tired at all, but the battle had taken __its toll on him and he was mentally exhausted. He needed to stop for a moment._

_**"You are letting them escape."**_

_"So?"_

_**"They are going to regroup."** The dark voice in his mind warned. **"There´ll be more next time."**_

_"Then let them come," The boy arrogantly replied, satisfied with his handiwork. "I can take on an entire army."_

_**"I can take on an army, Schtauffen."** It calmly retorted. **"But I fear that you can´t even take care of yourself."**_

_Siegfried had no idea of what the sword was referring to. As far as he knew and felt, he had gone through the combat unscathed. It was only __until he felt a jolt of pain in his back for a moment that he knew better. Hurriedly, he ran his free hand through his back and his eyes widened __when he realized that he had something incrusted in his shoulder. "This is-" the boy grunted as he pulled the object lodged in his armor. __It was a crossbow bolt, like the ones his fellow brigands used in the Schwartzwind. Unlike the bow, there was hardly any practice needed __to wield the weapon, and their piercing bolts came quite in handy when dealing with armored targets, like knights and soldiers - targets __pretty much like himself. Siegfried stared in disbelief for a moment at the bolt in his hand. His very blood dripped from its __tip. During the fight, someone had managed to shoot him with a crossbow and he hadn´t even noticed. In normal circumstances, __that could have been the end of him. Now-_

_His brow furrowed, and Siegfried merely tossed the bolt away. "This means nothing."_

_**"I can you keep you from pain, but not from harm."** The voice told him. **"Be careless and you´ll get yourself killed."**_

_Siegfried looked towards the road. In the distance he could still see the remaining men running for the forests. They were __most likely to regroup, as the blade told him. Chances were that they would be way more next time, and chances were __that they would the ones looking for him instead. He wasn´t planning in staying in the damned forests forever, but he __could go nowhere with Soul Edge, nor he wasn´t going to leave it anywhere. A chill ran through his spine, and he silently __wondered if he had gone too far this time. Even with the terrifying might of the sword, he was still just one man._

_Next time, chances were he may not be as fortunate. "What then? What should I do?"_

_**"Chase the survivors. Track them down to the next village."** It simply suggested. **"Kill them all."**_

_Siegfried gritted his teeth. He knew it was going to say something like that. Although he craved for the power Soul Edge __offered, not so for the things it made him do to maintain its favor. The boy strived to feed it with the souls of __soldiers and armed men, though it insinuated several times that anyone would do. For the monster in his hands, hunger was __hunger, and it spared none. Even then, he turned down those suggestions over and over again. He wouldn´t stoop to do s__mething as lowly as feeding the thing with helpless villagers._

_Still, it made sense. If the guards got away and reached the nearest village, word would spread and he would have a hard time __travelling east. Siegfried quickened his pace. If he made haste and with luck on his side, he should be able to catch up __with then before midday._

"I take it you are the Azure Nightmare."

The feminine voice startled him, but it was the flash of light that woke him up. Grown used to the darkness of his cell and the pale light squeezed by the door, his eyes turned into slits and he hid them with his good hand until they stopped hurting. Then, like always, it came to him. It was there, everywhere. In his nostrils, under his skin. On the wicked smile of the High Priest, on the acolytes and their torture devices. On the woman in front of him, and her torch.

On the woman, yes.

----------------

Isabella Valentine found herself walking amidst a sea of darkness. So far, the lower levels of the Palgaea temple turned out like a maze, full of neverending corridors, passages and tunnels. The eerie silence only accompanied the sense of stagnancy of the air, hot and dense. It could have been her mind playing tricks, but from time to time, she would hear the faintest of hissing echoing through the walls. It was faint enough to simply ignore it, but it was also loud enough to make her hair stand on end. Images of the lizardmen statues in the upper levels immediately came to mind, and she wondered if it could be that there actually was some truth in the acolytes´ bizarre idols. And if there was, she wouldn´t be fool enough to be caught unaware. Hidden under her long cloak, her segmented blade was on the ready, prepared for anything. Ivy´s face wasn´t showing at all, but she was beginning to find the long walk unnerving and was growing more anxious by the moment. She decided to keep her cool, though, and dismissed all the pernicious thoughts from her head, focusing instead on her breathing, her footsteps and the guiding light in front of her.

_"Hassan is not a man of many words," Kumpaetku smiled. "but he´s as good as any guide here. Stay close to him and do not wander in the dark."_

Her guide, indeed, was not the most talkative of men, but that seemed to be the trend among the acolytes of Fygul Cestemus. The dark-skinned man led her through the passages and tunnels, unaffected by neither shade nor occasional disturbing sounds. He had not opened his mouth once, but he seemed to know his way around and that was enough for her. It wasn´t like she had any other option anyways. By the third bifurcation she knew that she wouldn´t be able to return to the upper levels even if she wanted to.

Ivy´s thoughts moved from the light of the torch to the lingering darkness ahead. She had heard of the Azure Nightmare and its terrible exploits before, but dismissed the rumors as delusions of the peasantry. Just because the dark knight wielded a monstrous sword didn´t mean it was Soul Edge, right? Besides, according to her father´s records, Verchi had sent for the blade and it was very likely that the blade was somewhere hidden in the italian merchant´s private sanctum. Much to her dismay, it turned out that the sword wasn´t on the money pit, but on the move somewhere in the east. Now, given that actual facts didn´t got her anywhere and without the slightest lead on the monster´s trail, she thought she might as well go with the rumors for once. If this Azure Nightmare was for real, she would soon find out.

And if it wasn´t, she would skewer the smarmy old man where he stood.

A staircase, two corridors and a tunnel later, the briton found herself in front of an iron door. Silently, Hassan handed over his torch and motioned her to go in. She nodded, and put her hand on the handle of the door. It was open. The door closed behind her, and she ventured into the room. She was welcomed by the same stagnant air from outside, rekindled with a trace of energy she knew by heart. The foul stench covered the entire room, now revealed before the light. The floor was practically made of boulders, and rusted chains hanged on the walls. She thought it was a little too big for a cell, but it didn´t looked more than that. Suddenly, something stirred in the shadows and she directed her torch towards it.

Oddly enough, what caught her eye was not his most obvious feature, but how the others contrasted to it.

Long, unkempt blonde hair fell over his shoulders, a long scar crossing one of his eyes, patches of beard over his face. Of course, the most striking feature of the man was his grotesque right arm, which was covered in what could pass as a coarse-looking carapace. Long, protuding spikes sprouted from it and ended in a gruesome three fingered claw that replaced his hand. The whole thing seemed completely out place compared to the rest of his body - like a living armor of sorts. Ivy didn´t want to imagine how he had come across it in the first place, or what he had done to obtain it. There he was, in front of her, almost like the stories she had heard.

A man made demon. The Nightmare.

She rose her voice, and her firm tone echoed through the walls. "I take it you are the Azure Nightmare."

The man opened his eyes and covered them with his good hand, hurt by the repentine light. He squinted hard through the spaces between his fingers until he finally fixed her stare on her. Somewhat far, she couldn´t catch the color of his eyes. He didn´t look very happy to see her, and didn´t answer back.

"Are you the Azure Nightmare?" The platinum-haired woman repeated.

"Leave." He growled.

"Are you?"

There was no response. Instead the man just got on his feet and started walking toward her. To her surprise, the beast wasn´t chained or nothing like the sort. It was like Fygul Cestemus just kept him abandoned there.

"LEAVE!!!"

The Nightmare soon covered the small distance between them and before he could rise his claw he was overcome by an intense pain. With a sharp twist of her wrist, Ivy´s chain-link sword tore through her cloak and bit the man on the leg. Surprised and confused by the sudden attack, her assailant lost balance and stumbled over the floor. On his knees, he struggled to stand up again but was stopped by a fierce kick on the ribs that made him grunt in pain. Still reeling from the blow, the Nightmare used his hands as support and rose his head.

_Blue._ "I must take you are the Azure Nightmare."

His expression darkened. "Don´t call me that."

"How should I call you then?" The woman rose her eyesbrows. "Butcher? Monster?"

"Don´t call me Nightma-"

"The blade." She sharply cut him off. "I´m looking for the blade."

"I don´t have it with me." He sardonically answered. It wasn´t but a couple of seconds later that the heel of her boot stomped his good hand and a scream of agony erupted from the cell. Angered, the Nightmare rose his claw again but was soon met by a flash of steel - the point of the woman´s blade now centimetres from his face. So close, he could see the several segments that formed the sword. He stood down one more time, finding that he had very little interest in knowing how that thing actually worked.

This was him? Ivy rose her eyebrows, unable to hide the dissapointment. This puerile kid was the Azure Nightmare? "I don´t have patience for this." She said rather curtly. "You will tell me where is it."

"You should know." He replied through gritted teeth. "You reek of it."

"What do you mean?"

"You reek of it. I reek of it." Came the attempt at explanation. "This entire place reeks of it - but I don´t know where it is."

Ivy finally removed her heel from his hand. Immediately, the boy took his hand into his claw. "That doesn´t help me at all." She stated.

"Ask the priests. I told them everything I know."

"I already did." She stated again, and added. "They sounded quite disappointed."

"Then tell them I´m sorry." As soon as the words escaped his mouth, the Nightmare reflexively gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, expecting another blow. None came. He opened them again, to find the blade by the woman´s side.

"What happened to your arm?" Ivy asked. She had lowered her tone, and it sounded almost casual.

He looked bewildered at the woman in front of him and then at the claw cradling his hand. Despite its wicked look, he had no recollection of how it had appeared in the first place. His memories of when he wielded Soul Edge were vague at best, but there were a very few certain things that he remembered well, some that were confusing, and plenty that were better left ignored. "I don´t know."

"You don´t know, or don´t remember?"

"I don´t remember." And it was truth. "It wasn´t like this before."

"Did you ask for it? Did you ask Soul Edge for it?"

"I..." Images ran through his mind. Images of blood and fire. He didn´t want to remember, but they were always there, burning in his mind, an eternal reminder of his deeds. The images were like his arm - the proofs of what he had done when he held the infernal artifact, and what he had let himself do. "Perhaps." He admitted.

"So it´s true then. It was you." The woman simply concluded. "You are the Azure Nightmare."

"..."

All said and done, Ivy didn´t know what to make of him. Though this angry, confused boy was really the Nightmare, he wasn´t exactly what she had in mind.

"Why did you do it?"

The woman´s voice was not just casual by now, but she sounded like she really wanted to listen to whatever he had to say. Though she seemed interested, there was no sympathy nor pity in her cold blue eyes.

He knew he deserved none.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Why."

"You wouldn´t understand."

"Try me."

"You won´t." He refused. "It´s not something that can be explained like that."

"I´m listening." The briton insisted again.

Silence.

Ivy let out a silent sigh. It seemed that the Nightmare only understood the language of pain. Fortunately, she was well versed on it. Suddenly, the segments of her blade separated and fell to the floor, joined by a flexible shaft. With just another twist of her hand, her broadsword had turn into a edged whip.

"You will answer me or I´ll force my answer out from you." She hardened her tone and threatened. "Now talk."

"Did you hear the voice too?"

Ivy´s eyes slightly widened. She had never heard the voice of the Infernal artifact, but she knew that her father had, and it made him lose his mind.

It started when Count Valentine came across a shard of the legendary sword of heroes. It wasn´t clear to her how he obtained it - if he traded it for something or spent a fortune on it, but she knew that he was more than excited with the newest addition to his collection. The Count was an avid enthusiast of the occult, and Isabella grew up in a world of strange trinkets and idols. Like the rare and valuable tomes in his library, the shard was just a piece of an old tale and she never put much thought into it. She had long forgiven the eccentricities of her father and loved him for who he was, but found strange that he would spend almost entire days locked in his study, and outright worrisome when he prohibited the entrance to it. Still, it was the Count´s decision, and there wasn´t much her mother or she could do about it.

Months passed, and they had rarely seen the Count outside the study. In the few occations they did, they noticed his face growing thinner and thinner. He ended up shunning his family entirely. Her mother called out to him and begged him to return, in vain. The study of the shard and the secrets it possesed became an obsession, as he spent all his time entraced by the dark metal. Finally one night, his cries for help echoed through the manor and the servants found him limping in a hallway. He was bleeding profusely, his body full of cuts. They took him to his chamber and called a doctor to treat him. The wounds were grievous, but his eyes shone with a twisted light. The Count had survived, but he was in a terrible shape, and it wasn´t but a couple of days before fever took him. Isabella and her mother were left heartbroken, and the servants unnerved by the bizarre happening. Determined to know the truth, Isabella entered the restricted room and found shattered equipment all over the place, the trail of blood, and the serpent.

Strewn over the carpet, she recognized the weapon immediately - a rare chinese serpent blade that her father kept in his armory, a gift of a fellow merchant that traded goods from the far east. The sword operated on a convulted mechanism that made the blade extend and contract with mere movements of the wrist. The final result was a rather unwieldable weapon that was better suited for show than for actual combat, unlike the asian counterparts of his collection. In the loneliness of his study, he had also kept haphazard records of endless nights, of strange conversations and alien words. The voice in his head spoke in riddles, and filled his tired mind with whispers. The Count never obtained the secret of immortality he seeked, but had found somewhat of a substitute instead. Among many properties, Soul Edge had the power to instill life into things - a tainted breath, but one of life nonetheless. By inserting the shard in the inert blade, it started moving by itself and driven by its endless hunger, attacked him. Her father´s death had been a horrible accident.

It took time, but now the monster in her hand moved, twisted after her every whim. But even then, it had never, ever talked to her.

"I´ve heard no voice."

"Then I don´t know what you want me to say."

The whip reverted to its original state, and she rose her voice again.

"You will help me find it." She declared.

"What?"

"I have to find Soul Edge." The woman explained. "It´s obvious that you can sense it, and I have no other leads. I will need your assistance - and I´m going to have it."

"..."

Ivy continued. "I couldn´t care less about what you did, or why you did it. All I need is that you take me to that thing. Claim it back if you want - it doesn´t matter, and I´ll destroy you along with it."

"And if I refuse?"

"I´d rather not whip you into cooperation, but I will if I have to."

"It doesn´t seem I have much of a choice."

"You don´t." She concluded.

The Nightmare stood on his feet, and rose his head so he could meet her face fully. "Get me out of here and I´ll do what I can."

"It is a deal then. How should I call you?"

"I´m-" He rephrased. "It´s Siegfried."

"Very well, Siegfried." The woman said as she reached the door. "I´ll be back for you shortly."

"Wait-" The boy called after her. "Your name."

The door closed violently and he was left in the darkness again.

_"Call me Ivy."_

The boy shook on his cell and leaned against a wall, his eyes staring into the nothingness, a thousand thoughts burning in his mind. It was there. Not just in the segmented blade, but on her too, yes. Familiar and intoxicating - the very scent that drove men insane.

The stench of Soul Edge.

A/N: Wow. I updated. You must think that I finally felt like writing, but that´s not exactly true. This must be like the 8th time I rewrote this chapter and I still don´t like it. I hope you guys enjoyed it though, and of course, my thanks to all those who cared enough to review. It means a lot to me. You people are awesome. As for the next chapter, I have it pretty much planned out, so it won´t take nowhere a year.

Canon buffs might notice that I completely made up the creation of the Ivy blade. There is a reason though, as I thought that the original version was amazingly stupid. Seriously, Ivy summons Nightmare´s arm through a portal so she could take a blood sample and give life to the Ivy blade with it. A portal. Canon buffs might also notice that with this I probably screwed the continuity of the fic. And the characterizations, but that´s already taken for granted.

Asty and Sophie go next. See you in 2010!


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